







a *v 



THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER 


A TALE OF THE CHILDREN 
OF THE PILGRIM REPUBLIC 


Books by Hezekiah Butterworth. 

Uniform Edition. Each, 12mo, cloth, $1.50. 


True to h.lS Home* a Tale of the Boyhood of Franklin. 
Illustrated by H. Winthrop Peirce. 

" Mr. Butterworth’s charming and suggestive story presents the most inter- 
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tive of the salient phases of his public life. The author has succeeded most 
happily in carrying out his plan of “story-telling education” based on Froe- 
bel’s principle that “ life must be taught from life.” 

The W^ampum; or. The Fairest Page of History, A Tale 
of William Penn's Treaty with the Indians. Illustrated by 
H. Winthrop Peirce. 

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The Knigfht of Liberty, A Tale of the Fortunes of La- 
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“ No better reading for the young man can be imagined than this fascinat- 
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The true spirit of the leaders in our War for Independence is pictured in 
this dramatic story. It includes the Boston Tea Paity and Bunker Hill; and 
Adams, Hancock, Revere, and the boys who bearded General Gage, are living 
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The Boys of Greenway Court, a story of the Early 

Years of Washington. With ic full-page* Illustrations by H. 

Winthrop Peirce. 

“ Skillfully combining fact and fiction, he has given us a story historically 
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In the Boyhood of Lincoln. A Story of the Black Hawk 
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trations and colored Frontispiece. 

“ The author presents facts in a most attractive framework of fiction, and 
imbues the whole with his peculiar humor. The illustrations are numerous and 
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The Log; School-House on the Columbia, With 13 

full-page Illustrations by J. Carter Beard, E. J. Austen, 
and Others. 

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one is worthy of sincere praise.” — Seattle Post- Intelligencer . 

New York ; D. Appleton & Company, 72 Fifth Avenue. 


THE PILOT 

OF THE MAYFLOWER 


H XTale of tbe Cbilbren 
of tbe iPtlQctm IRepubltc 


HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH 

fr 

AUTHOR OF TRUE TO HIS HOME, THE WAMPUM BELT, ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 



NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
1898 


J 


2n 




139b. 


Copyright, 1898, 

By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 



TWO COPIES R£Q£|y£jj^ 

VV^c\(\ V 


^39b. 


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I 



Sword, pot, and platter of Miles Standish. 


PEEFACE. 


This volume, the eighth of the Creators of Liberty 
Series, although it should really have been the first, is for 
the most part but fact in picture. The voyage of the May- 
flower is one of the most important events in the history of 
the INew World, and the writer has sought to bring into his 
narrative all the known incidents that took place on the 
ship during this voyage, which brought our own Argonauts 
to our shores. While the methods of fiction have been em- 
ployed in the story, they have not departed from the his- 
torical spirit. As a method of fiction, the good pilot of the 
Mayflower has been made a story-teller, but his stories are 
substantially true. The incident of the jackscrew and the 
service that it rendered, and that of the copper chain, so far 
as such a chain became a gift from the Pilgrims to Massa- 
soit, and was made by that chief a sign of peace in his rela- 
tions to the colony, were suggested by the Pilgrims’ own 
records. The decision of all the Pilgrims who /survived the 
great sickness not to return with the Mayflower, but to 

V 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 

struggle on for tlie cause of liuman liberty, is one of the 
noblest examples of moral heroism, and the first Thanks- 
giving in the colony, with Massasoit for a guest, closes in 
a picturesque way the narrative of the decisive part of a 
history which will ever be sacred to America and the Eng- 
lish race. These events it has been our aim to present in 
pen picture. 

The other volumes of this series of books have been suc- 
cessful in finding a large audience of young readers, for 
which the writer is grateful. The story of the children of 
the Mayfiower is a haunting theme. He has sought to 
make this interpretation of the life of the young Pilgrims 
of the Mayfiower the best of the series, and he will be glad 
if it should awaken an interest to study the Pilgrims’ litera- 
ture in those original documents that are now placed within 
the reach of all. 

It was a Greek adage that A people are known by the 
heroes they crown.” It is true of our own land. The Pil- 
grim Fathers followed the faith of Columbus in moral 
enterprise. They stood firm in the storms that would have 
wrecked common lives, and have added their names to those 
who walked by faith in the great and decisive events of 
human history. 

H. B. 

28 Worcester Street, Boston, Mass. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. — The pilot and the Indians 1 

II. — The boys and the jackscrew 11 

III, — “By Ahava River” 18 

IV. — The pilot and the little Pilgrims. — The story of 

THE captive Indian Tusquanto 31 

V. — Epenow, the Indian wonder 39 

VI. — The story of the Speedwell 46 

VII. — The tale of Henry Hudson 56 

VIII. — The voyage of the May’flower. — “ A man overboard ” 65 

IX. — The Mayflower at sea. — A leak. — “Bear hard to 

THE west” 71 

X. — The legendary sword 80 

XI. — The compact of the Mayflower 89 

XH. — The first discovery 97 

XIII. — Pilot Coppin’s second story 106 

XIV. — Kidnaped Indians. — “Our pilot” 116 

XV. — The .man who gave up all. — The golden chain . . 124 

XVI. — The rock of Faith 130 

XVII. — Elder Brewster’s looking-glass 139 

XVIII. — In the woods 153 

XIX. — The thatch gatherers. — Hero, the mastiff of the 

Mayflower. — A night under a tree . . . .158 

XX. — Indians 165 

XXI. — The Indian mill. — A curious event .... 173 

vii 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


viii 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII. — Massasoit. — The copper chain 184 

XXIII. — Death of Ellen More 195 

XXIV. — The departure of the Mayflower .... 203 

XXV.— Lost 210 

XXVI. — The White Fool King 220 

XXVII. — The copper chain again 229 

XXVIII.— The first Thanicsqiving 234 

XXIX.— “Good cheer!” 240 


APPENDIX. 


The Plymouth of to-day 244 

The landing of the Pilgrims 246 

Compact Day 248 



Elder Brewster’s chair and cradle of Peregrine White, Pilgrim Hall. 


/ 



Tim fof} Thd mt'diny-hoiLse, 1G21. 













Governor Carver’s chair and ancient spinning-wheel, Pilgrim Hall, 

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


FACING 

PAGE 

The pilot telling the story of Hudson . . . Frontispiece 

The embarkation of the Pilgrims 25 

From the picture by Robert Weir, in the Capitol at Washington. 

The departure from Delftshaven 42 

From the painting by Charles Lucy. 

Reading the compact in the Mayflower’s cabin .... 90 

The Mayflower in Plymouth harbor 105 

From the painting by William F. Halsall. 

Plymouth Rock 131 

The canopy under which Plymouth Rock is now preserved . . 136 

The landing of the Pilgrims 149 

From the painting by Henry Sargent. 

The fort and meeting-house, 1621 170 

View of Leyden Street, Plymouth colony 185 

The return of the lost boy . . . * . . . . . . 216 

National I^lonument to the Forefathers 244 




Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth. 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


CHAPTEE I. 

THE PILOT AND THE INDIANS. 

Beautiful Leyden ! 

It was a rugged Scottish sailor who spoke. He had been 
a fisherman on the coasts of Hew England and the Banks of 
Hewfoundland. He was among the few sailors that had 
ever seen these mysterious coasts, for the time was the spring 
of 1620. He was held to he a wonderful man in those re- 
markable times, for he had seen American Indians. 

A man who had seen American Indians before 1620 
never wanted companionship. These Indians were to the 
Europeans the children of Hature, about whom every one 


2 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


wished to hear. Columbus had awakened a strange and 
vivid curiosity in the dusky race, as he had presented to 
Isabella the hejeweled Caribs, with splendid figures and 
strong arms holding aloft gorgeous birds, on the occasion of 
the festival at Santa Fe in honor of the discovery of the 
New World. Captain John Smith had thrilled England 
with Indian tales, to which was added the sylvan romance 
of Pocahontas, who had died at Gravesend in 1617, a con- 
vert to the Christian faith and the wife of a gallant English- 
man. 

These were times before De Foe and his nursery-haunt- 
ing narrative of Eobinson Crusoe, but all men who had seen 
Indians were like De Foes in the public eye. 

Delightful as were such sea adventurers, traders, and 
fishermen to men and women, they were as giants in the 
imagination of the children. What child had not heard of 
the lovely Pocahontas, of how she stayed the war club, and 
of her marriage amid the English hedgerows? 

Sebastian Cabot, in 1502, had brought three Indians 
from Newfoundland to England, and had presented them 
to Henry YII. They were the first Indians ever seen in 
England. What were their names? We do not know. 
What became of them? We do not know, but this we are 
pleased to know, that they filled England with wonder. 
We are told that when they were found in America they 
were clothed with skins of beasts and lived on raw flesh, 
“ but that, after two years’ residence in England, they were 


THE PILOT AND THE INDIANS. 


3 


seen in the king’s court clothed like Englishmen.” And 
this was in those far, wise days of Henry YII, nearly one 
hundred years before the Pilgrim Fathers began their wan- 
derings. 

In 1576 Captain Martin Frobisher brought to England 
an Indian whose history was more strange than romantic. 
He had attracted him to his ship by the ringing of a bell, 
and so seized him, canoe and all. The savage retained his 
native fierceness, and we are told that he infiicted terrible 
injuries upon himself, not being able to injure others. He 
died of England’s cold. There were hearts that pitied him, 
both for his sufferings and for the injustice that had been 
done him. 

The Scottish sailor whom we introduced to the reader 
with the words Beautiful Leyden ” was approaching the 
quaint Holland city on a very remarkable undertaking. He 
was to pilot the Pilgrim Fathers, or the younger part of the 
exiled church of John Bobinson, from Leyden to Southamp- 
ton, and thence to the Hew World, where he had been be- 
fore, and had seen Indians. 

His name was Robert Coppin, a hardy, simple, true- 
hearted Scotchman, and his services had been secured in 
England by one Thomas Hash, who was bringing him to 
Leyden to meet the Pilgrims, then preparing to cross the sea. 

Our pilot,” they came to call him, and there is such 
tenderness and significance in the words that we must use 
him for the character by which to interpret the life of the 


4 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


children of the Pilgrims on board the Speedwell, the May- 
flower, on the smooth, pleasant waters of the early part of 
the voyage that changed the history of mankind, on the bil- 
lows of the storms that followed, and then among the In- 
dians on the rude and wintry 'New England coast. Our 
pilot ” has a friendly sound, and this pilot had a kindly 
heart. 

Kobert Coppin, our pilot,’’ might well exclaim Beau- 
tiful Leyden! ” He had seen many cities in his day, but 
never one like this on the borders of the old Khine. Leyden 
was the oldest city in Holland; here were the ruins of a for- 
tress founded before Christ; here was a city of heroes. 

When it had been besieged by the Spaniards, the Prince 
of Orange had broken the dikes and let in the sea. 

Then the prince said to the people: 

“As a compensation for your losses I will remit your 
taxes or build you a university. Which shall it be ? ” 

The people chose the university. It stood there now, 
with its roofs glimmering over the canals and above the 
lime trees. 

The people had chosen well; some of the gveatest schol- 
ars of Europe are associated with the University of Leyden. 

Bobert Coppin, the pilot, who had seen Indians, drifted 
up one of the canals under the lime trees. The spring was 
waning; the trees were filled with song birds and the gardens 
with flowers. 

“Thomas Hash,” said the merry sailor, “why do the 


THE PILOT AND THE INDIANS. 


5 


Separatists wish to leave this goodly place? Why do they 
not remain here? ” 

He saw the church, the tiled roofs, the pleasant gables 
and open lattices, and the long lines of water streets or canals. 

There are not many towns like this,^’ he added. “ One 
could stay here forever, if his soul were only content.” 

But the souls of these people are not content.” 

‘^Why, why, Thomas I^ash? Have they not liberty?” 
asked our pilot. 

Some children came down to the landing under the 
lime trees. Among them was Ellen More, who had 
found a home in the family of Edward Winslow, and 
who was to become a little Pilgrim on the Mayflower by 
and by. 

Yes,” said Thomas E^ash, they have liberty, but they 
fear that it will not last. Yonder is the common cause of the 
discontent.” 

What — the children? ” 

Yes, the children. The Separatists wish to found a 
home where their children can enjoy religious freedom and 
be educated. Go with me to their meetings and you shall 
hear.” 

They landed under the lime trees. 

The Scottish seaman felt a little touch on his hand. 

He looked down into a child’s face. It was a beautiful 
face, amid waving hair. 

What is your name, my girl? ” 


6 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Ellen More.” 

“Do you belong to the Brownites? ” The Brownites 
were a sect of dissenters. 

“ Elizabeth Winslow keeps me, sir. She is not my own 
mother, but she is a good, good mother to me. May I ask 
you something, sir? ” 

“ Aye, aye — ask on; prattle like yours always holds me. 
What is it you would know? ” 

“ Are you a pilot, sir? ” 

“Aye, aye.” 

“ Are you to be our pilot, sir? ” 

“Aye, aye; and Ell pilot true such girls as you, and 
I would die for such a crew. You see I can talk in 
rhymes.” 

“ And mother Elizabeth said that you had seen Indians. 
Will you tell us children all about- what you saw in !N^ew 
England some day, sir? ” 

“ Aye, aye, my pet; some day — my heart hugs you to 
think of it — some day, some day, when I am off duty upon 
the open sea. I have heard of your foster father before,” 
he added. “Edward Winslow; he has been a great trav- 
eler. He is rich, and he is much esteemed, and he is going 
to leave this beautiful city, and all, and take you with him, 
my pet. Oh, this is a beautiful world; and God is good, 
I’m thinking, but men’s hearts are hard. I will tell you 
about the Indian that I saw some day.” 

“ And you will tell all the children, sir? ” 


THE PILOT AND THE INDIANS. 7 

Yes, yes, you great little heart, all. How many will 
there be of you? ’’ 

Twelve little ones, and as many young folks, I heard 
mother Elizabeth say.” 

That is quite a company of children and young people.” 

But you are to be our pilot.” 

I must go now — methinks such as you ought to have a 
better pilot than I. And you have, though I am a rough man 
that says it — ^you have, you have. Such as you have a 
Pilot that the eye does not see.” 

He left the canoe and followed Thomas Hash to the 
house of John Kobinson, the pastor of the church in Leyden. 
The place where the goodly man’s house stood is still marked 
in Leyden. It is near the great church, which is also in- 
scribed, the tablets being the gifts of grateful sons of the 
Pilgrims in America. 

Then Eobert Coppin, our pilot, stood face to face with 
this aged man, the prophet of America, who was to build 
beyond the seas, but never to go to the new colony that he 
had builded. 

There was to be a gathering of the exiles in that house 
that day. The pilot would hear what these people had to 
say, and then he would better understand their case and 
cause. Perhaps he would meet there again the sweet face 
of Ellen More, if the Winslows should come to the meeting. 
He hoped he would, for he was a lonely man, and the child’s 

touch had made him very happy. 

2 


8 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


There are people that it is a blessing for a lonely heart 
to know, and little Ellen More, to whom Edward Winslow 
had given a home, was one of them. 

The little girl came to the meeting as the pilot had 
hoped. She was led by the hand of a lovely lady. Mistress 
Elizabeth Winslow. 

After the religious exercises were over, Pastor John Rob- 
inson said : Our pilot is here, a lusty Scotchman whom we 
are glad to welcome. He brings to us a letter from Robert 
Cushman, our English agent. This letter I will read.’’ 

He read the letter, which stated that the Mayflower, a 
ship of one hundred and eighty tons, Thomas Jones master, 
would soon leave London for Southampton, and take there 
a company of English immigrants, who would sail in her to 
the Hudson River. 

The Mayflower! It was probably the first time that 
John Robinson’s people heard the name! It was to be a 
ship of destiny, the winged messenger of heaven to the west- 
ern world ! 

The people listened to the tidings with intense in- 
terest. 

“ But,” said John Robinson, this is not the most im- 
portant information to us now and here that our good Scotch 
pilot has brought. The letter further says that a sixty-ton 
pinnace, the Speedwell, has been purchased by the Adven- 
turers, our company, and that she is to be fitted out here in 
Holland, and that she is to take you to Southampton, and to 


THE PILOT AND THE INDIANS. 


9 


go witH the Mayflower to the new country, and is to remain 
there for a year. I will read you this part of the letter.” 

There was silence as he read this part of the letter which 
so concerned the pastor’s congregation. He then said pleas- 
antly: “Our pilot here has seen the Hew World, and he may 
be able to tell us what we need most to carry. Speak out, 
Robert Coppin, our people have eager ears to hear you! ” 

Robert Coppin, “ our pilot,” holding his hat in his hand, 
bowed low and said: 

“ May it please your reverence and your honors, if I may 
thus address you, who do not desire titles or any flattering 
words, the best things that you can carry, which you do not 
now have, are, in my humble opinion, presents for the In- 
dian chiefs.” 

“ That is a good thought,” said Edward Winslow, who 
had traveled much, and had read the letter of Sir Walter 
Raleigh and other adventurers in the Hew World. “A 
very good thought. Master Coppin; and may I ask whair 
trifles most please the Indians on these new coasts? ” 

“ Chains for the neck,” said he, “ and belts for the waist. 
The Indians wear chains made of shells. Free chains among 
these people are emblems of dignity and power. A chain 
that holds a treasure that can lie upon the breast is very 
highly esteemed by the lords of the forest.” 

“ But,” said Mr. Winslow, “ we would hardly be able to 
carry to them gold or silver chains.” 

“A copper chain with a medal would do as well,” said 


10 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


the pilot. “You can buy such chains at the shops in the 
town.’^ 

Little Ellen More’s eyes danced. “ A copper chain with 
a medal for a chief/’ said she to her foster mother, Elizabeth 
Winslow, when the two had gone out upon the street. “ I 
wish that I had such a chain.” 

Our pilot had joined Mistress Elizabeth Winslow and 
Ellen, and had heard what Ellen had said. 

“ I will buy you a copper chain and medal if your mother 
is willing, little girl,” said he. 

“ May I carry it over the sea? ” 

“ If the mistress wills.” 

“ And give it to an Indian chief? ” 

“ If she so wills.” The answer made light the steps of 
the girl. 

They came to a shop where jewels, rings, and chains 
with medals of Holland were sold, and our pilot asked them 
to enter the place. He there purchased a copper chain with 
a medal, and put it over Ellen’s neck. 

“ See,” said he, “ it reaches nearly to the floor. “ But 
an Indian is tall and big.” 

“You are very kind to my little girl,” said Elizabeth 
Winslow. “ I am glad indeed that we are to have you for 
our pilot. I love them that love children; such people are 
true friends to all men, and I can read your heart.” . 

The pilot wondered if indeed the copper chain would 
ever And an Indian chief. 


CHAPTEE n. 


THE BOYS AND THE JACKSCEEW. 

In the houses in the neighborhood many of the people 
were preparing their goods or effects for removal to the 
quay where lay the ship that was to take them to Southamp- 
ton and thence across the sea, three thousand miles wide, to a 
wilderness as wide as the sea. 

The immigrants had sold most of their household prop- 
erty, but each had retained something that he wished to take 
to the new land. This one had a chair that he wished to 
keep; that one a stand or table with sacred associations. 
Elder Brewster had a chest and a looking-glass. The chest 
is still to be seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth; America’s 
“ Ark of the Covenant ” it came to be, on account of the 
purpose to which it was put on the last days of the voyage 
of the Mayflower. Of this we will tell you the story in 
its place. The looking-glass which, with Elder Brewster’s 
Bible, may still be seen at Plymton, near Plymouth, in an 
ancient Brewster house, is perhaps the most precious of all 
American mirrors. Into it all of the Pilgrim fathers and 
mothers may have looked, including Eobinson of Leyden, 
their old pastor, who expected to follow them when the 


12 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


younger members of the church should have planted their 
church in the wilderness, but who was called to make another 
pilgrimage from which none return. 

Every one seemed to wish to take on board the little ship 
more articles than it could be allowed to carry. 

As soon as it became known that the pilot had come and 
was at the house of the Pilgrim pastor, the boys and young 
men began to gather there to meet him. They wished to 
see a man who had been to the land whither they were going. 
Among the boys was Jasper More, a brother of little Ellen 
More, of the Winslow family. Love Brewster and Wrastle 
Brewster, sons of the amiable Elder Brewster, as also John 
Billington and John Hooke, a servant in the Allerton 
family. 

At last the day before that set for the departure came. 
The children gathered with the others at Bobinson’s house. 

They were a merry group on this serious day. John 
Kobinson seems to have loved young people, and to have won 
them as a common father. They appealed to him when in 
doubt, and he decided their cases with a sympathetic heart. 
A friend of mankind is always the children’s friend. 

Two of the boys and a carpenter came bringing a jack- 
screw. They wished to take it on board the ship. The 
boys were carrying the screw, and the carpenter was follow- 
ing them. 

“ That is a curious instrument that you have there, my 
friend,” said Elder Kobinson to the carpenter. “ It is not 


THE BOYS AND THE JACKSCREW. 


13 


great for size, but they tell me that there is power in it,” 
looking toward the pilot. 

Aye, aye, sir, that there is. There has been many a 
ship saved from wreckage by a jackscrew. Are you going 
to take it on board ? ” 

That is what I would do,” said the carpenter. But 
they say that we are in danger of overloading the ship with 
storage, that nothing more must go on board of the barges 
which are to take us to the ship — not so much as an axe or 
hatchet. That instrument might prove very much of serv- 
ice in case of a strain on the ship during the voyage.” 

Which may Heaven prevent,” said good Elder Kobin- 
son. It is the duty of people to live where they can do the 
most good, and carry with them where they go the things 
that will be most useful. I am not the captain of the ship, 
but if I were I would admit the jackscrew.” 

But, my good man,” said Coppin, may it please you, 
I am to be the pilot and so one of the mates, and I know the 
value of a jackscrew. We may see hard weather before we 
reach the American coast. I will take it on board; the 
captain will not object to that. It is small baggage that I 
will have to carry.” 

One of the boys shouted — Our pilot ! ” 

Aye, aye, boys; it is good hearts that ye have to say 
that. Put down the jackscrew under the trees, until after 
the meeting has been held, and I will see that it is taken 
on board the ship from the barges. I am to be pilot of 


14 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


this goodly company, thank Heaven, and to do your bid- 
ding.” 

Our pilot! ” said the boys. They all felt that there 
was something in the Scotchman’s heart to trust. 

“ I am glad, my boys, of all this good will. I have seen 
the shores on which you are going to settle. I am going 
with you, and my heart as well as my hand shall be true 
to you. I wish that I were going to share your lot, but that 
will never be the fate of Robert Coppin, the sailor and 
fisherman; he must follow the sea, he must follow the 
sea! ” 

You have seen the Indians,” said Jasper More. 

Aye, aye ; I have seen a forest king in all of his wam- 
pum and feathers, with his bow and quiver, and his lusty 
men.” 

^^Will they harm us where we settle?” asked Love 
Brewster. 

^^Ho, no, I mind not, or they would not have done so 
if the captains on the coast had not stolen some of them and 
carried them away.” 

Will you tell us about those stolen Indians? ” asked 
Wrastle Brewster. 

Aye, aye, my lads, some day, some pleasant day on the 
sea. The people are gathering now, and Elder Brewster de- 
sires me to stay to this godly meeting.” 

Yes, yes, my good sailor,” said the elder, I wish you 
to stay that you may see what a precious freight you are to 


THE BOYS AND THE JACKSCREW. 


15 


pilot to the unknown shore. Men’s hearts are more than 
any gold that they can possess, and it is the worth that is in- 
visible that determines the destinies of men. It is the elect 
of time that you are to meet to-day, sir, and to pilot into 
the empty world where Heaven has opened the gate of op- 
portunity. I like you well, sir, I like you well. But no more 
now; the people are coming, and this is our last day to- 
gether here! ” 

Kobert Coppin bowed his head. 

The boys took off their hats and shouted again; Our 
pilot! ” 

The Scotchman watched the people as they gathered. 
How noble and yet how simple they looked! Captain 
Carver and his wife; William Brewster, the deacon, and 
Mistress Brewster; Edward Winslow and Mistress Winslow, 
and beautiful little Ellen More; William Bradford and Mis- 
tress Bradford; Isaac Allerton and his family; Captain 
Miles Standish and Rose Standish; William Mullins, his 
wife, and the afterward historic Priscilla, then a Puritan 
girl; the Hopkinsons; the Billingtons; the Tilleys; the Chil- 
tons; and John Alden, who was one day to marry Priscilla. 
Many were young people. Their dress was simple; they 
wore the crown of character. They had dwelt together in 
Leyden in love and unity for nearly twelve years — pilgrims, 
led by an invisible hand. 

He watched them there as they came toward the house 
through the sunny streets cooled by the lime trees. It was 


16 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


a silent throng — as still as the placid canals. Some of the 
women were weeping. 

He saw the children as they came. Pastor Robinson 
was to speak especially of the children and to them that 
day. Ellen More and her brother Jasper had already inter- 
ested him, and his heart went out in pitying love to them 
because they were dependent on others, and in a sense 
alone in the world. He could feel for broken families and 
be as arms, heart, and guidance to such, for such was his 
nature. 

The sun rose high over the canals and the lime trees. 
The storks sat listlessly on the chimneys and gables. The 
black flat-bottomed boats lay idling on the waters. In the 
square students in dark habits passed thoughtfully to and 
fro. Leyden is beautiful now; it was so in 1620. 

Why were these people going out of these serene streets 
on the Rhine across an uncertain sea into a wilderness of 
savages, wild beasts, and tangled trees? Why? why? the 
pilot asked as he stood there and wondered. 

There was not a church, a school, a roof in all the land 
to which they were going. Hot a single road. The blazed 
trail of the red hunter was there; the frail tent of bark and 
skins. Hot a library was there on all the shining shores. 
The forest lords knew not their own history. They were 
probably the descendants of some wandering Asiatic race. 
Their gods were the beings of a rude imagination. They 
had not the vices of the old nations, but to shed blood was 


THE BOYS AND THE JACKSCREW. 17 

their glory, and revenge was the sweetest passion of life. 
The race that seeks blood will perish. 

Why? why? 

The people had assembled now in the great room. He 
would go in and stand by the door, holding his hat in his 
hand. He would hear what the grave and gentle pastor had 
to say. This was to be the good man’s last discourse. He 
would listen intently. The pastor should answer the ques- 
tions that kept rising in his mind on this late midsummer 
day, amid the beautiful serenity that ends in the low Khine 
lands the last shortening days of July. 

What will the pastor say? He will at least tell his peo- 
ple, his young people, why he wills them to go. 

The young people all bent a friendly look on the pilot as 
they passed into the room. The children sat so that they 
could look upon him, as he stood there with his bowed head, 
hat in hand. He had seen many strange seas — the Spanish 
Main, the island of Newfoundland. They had been told 
this; and he had seen a red Indian king. 


CHAPTEE III. 


AHAVA EIVEK.’^ 

The room was still. The occasional sob of a woman 
caused the children’s faces to wear a look of sympathy and 
wonder. One woman spoke aloud to another who was deaf, 
breaking the silence. She said, ^^Hot one of us will ever 
see this place again, not one! ” 

J ohn Eobinson arosQ, bowed his head in silence, and then 
read Luther’s version of Psalm C, which the company sung. 

The house had very large rooms, and a garden which was 
a kind of park and now blowing with flowers. In Eobinson’s 
garden were some twenty or more cabins, and here the poor 
people lived. His congregation worshiped in his house, and 
the place where this socialistic community dwelt in wonder- 
ful harmony and love is now marked with the beautiful in- 
scription : 

“ On this spot lived, taught, and died, 

John Eobinson, 1611 - 1625 .” 

Eobinson’s congregation must have numbered some flve 
hundred. The Dutch came to love this wandering church, 
and gathered about the doors of the church, home, and 
garden. 


18 


“BY AHAVA RIVER/ 


19 


Such people were gathering now, and a whisper went 
round that it was the pilot who was standing hat in hand in 
the door. 

It is sorry that we are that they are going,” said a 
rugged Hollander to the pilot in English. It is kind 
hearts that they have, and there is never one of them hut 
pays his debts. They all know the meaning of the text, 
‘ Owe no man anything ’ ; ah, they do speak the truth and 
pay their debts, but they dispute about doctrines, much is 
the pity, I think. What have you here outside? ” 

The pilot looked down on the blooming grass, and saw it 
was the jackscrew to which the Hollander alluded. 

“ It is a tool that I am going to put on board the boats 
that go to the ship as soon as the meeting is over,” said the 
pilot. 

Here the pastor arose again and spread out his hands. 
How holy and noble he looked! There were tears in his 
eyes, but his face glowed. 

Here,” said the Hollander to the pilot, take it away.” 

“ What, my friend? ” asked the pilot. 

^^That jackscrew; it is out of harmony with the place; 
this is a spot where one should take off his shoes, I mind; 
and that thing looks like a trespasser — a sinner, it is a world- 
ly thing — ^let me take it out into the garden.” 

“ Your spiritual sense is keen indeed, my friend,” said 
the pilot. 

The old Dutchman took the jackscrew and carried it into 


20 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


the garden and set it down amid the flowers, then took it up 
again and left it among some weeds, where it belonged,’’ 
as he said as he came back and looked into the door again. 

John Kobinson prayed. The prayer seemed to rise into 
the regions of spiritual mystery, and the reverent old Hol- 
lander listened as though a very prophet was speaking. 

Then the pastor uttered the strange words By the 
Kiver Ahava.” 

The pilot listened. 

What did it mean? He had never heard of that river be- 
fore; in all of his sailings and wanderings he had not 
found it. 

Then Robinson repeated an ancfent record from sacred 
Hebrew history: 

And there at the river by Ahava, I proclaimed a fast, 
that we might humble ourselves before God, and seek a right 
way for us, and for our children, and all our substance.” 

He related the Hebrew story that had left this simple 
record. He preached from each clause, but when he came 
to speak on the clause and for our children ” the room 
was silent, and the pilot stepped within the door. Robert 
Coppin saw that the pastor had made in his interpretation 
the Zuyder Zee a River Ahava, and that our children ” 
were a cause of the event of this memorable day. 

Why do you venture upon the ocean,” said Robinson 
in substance, to And a home in an unknown land? This is 
a pleasant place, amid the lime trees, the canals, the sea 


BY AHAVA BIVER; 


21 


meadows, the ancient homes, and the towers of learning and 
the spires of faith? Why do you leave the pleasant lands of 
the vineyards of the Rhine? Children, hear me; ye young 
people whom I have so much loved, and shall always love, 
listen to me; His the last time that I shall open to you my 
heart. 

It is for your sakes that the boats that are to bear you to 
the Speedwell will sail in the cool of the day. 

It is England that has caused you to go into exile, but 
her blood flows in our veins; we love her history, her name, 
and we must remain Englishmen. In Holland, by the pleas- 
ant sea, you are losing your language. This must not be. 
The language of old England, of the heroes of faith, of the 
homes of our fathers, must be kept sacred. It will be so in 
the wilderness. 

You are changing in character here. The habits of a 
city of luxury are taking away your strength of soul. Your 
faith must be kept pure; wealth is nothing, fame is nothing, 
character is all. 

^^You must be educated; all of you must be educated 
in the free air of faith. There must be planted for you in 
the wilderness a place where education shall be free. 

My children, I may never be able to follow you into the 
wilderness. It matters not. Your parents may suffer — ^it 
matters not, if so be it is Heaven’s will. It matters not if you 
can be educated for a higher life of the freedom of the faith 
that the suffering world waits. 


22 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Go forth, go forth, prisoners of hope. All light has 
not jet been revealed. I^ew light will break forth from the 
world in the wilderness. Some minds can go as far as 
Luther, some as far as Calvin, some can see truth in very 
vision, but do you not resist new truth, and you must only 
follow me as far as I follow the truth of Christ ! ” 

The pilot saw, as it were, the serene pastor’s soul. The 
purpose of the pilgrims was now clear to him. They were 
to face the perils of the world, of the seas, and the wilderness, 
not for themselves, but for their children; not for their own 
comfort, but for the comfort of those who were to come after 
them. They loved welfare more than wealth, and others 
more than themselves. 

Many of them had become poor for this purpose of the 
help of mankind. They were not going to seek for riches, 
they were leaving worldly riches behind. They had turned 
their backs on ease and comfort and the hopes of peace, all 
of which might have been theirs. 

When and where in all history was there ever an assem- 
bly like this? 

At the close of the discourse, the communion was admin- 
istered to those who were to go and those who were to stay. 
That scene is worthy of a painting. 

Then they went out into the great garden, many of them 
leading the children by the hand. 

The pilot went out to find his jackscrew in the weeds 
“where it belonged.” He took i^up, and was about to 


“BY AHAVA river; 


23 


make his way with it toward the barges that were to go down 
the canals to the Speedwell, when he was met by a sea cap- 
tain who had come up here from Delftshaven. 

“ They will all wish to come back again,” said the cap- 
tain, in the hearing of the company. 

Pilot,” said Elder Brewster, you have been to the 
country; do you think that we shall ever wish to come back 
again? ” 

^‘IlTay, nay,” said the pilot, a man’s country is in his soul. 
E’ay, nay, not one of you will ever wish to come back.” 

But the captain’s words echoed. 

Shall we wish to return with you again, when the ship 
lifts her wings for old England, I wonder? ” said Elizabeth 
Winslow. O pilot, those words of the captain’s are a hawk 
in the sky. What do you think? ” 

Shall we wish to come back? ” said Bose Standish, 
echoing the dark prophecy. 

‘^ISTay, nay,” said the pilot. Come back? Did you 
ever hear a woman wish to return from any place where were 
the best prospects for her children? Come back, come back? 
'No; it is prospects that make the heart happy. Present 
hardship is nothing if the future is bright.” 

“ But the Israelites longed for the fleshpots of Egypt,” 
said one who had heard what the captain had said. 

There are no Israelites of that kind here, please your 
honor,” said the pilot. “ The world grows better, else what 
is the use of the world? ” 


24 : 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Right, right you are,” said Parson Robinson. “ There 
will never be an age when there will be not a better one to 
come. The world will be better when we go out of it than 
when we came into it, or it ought to be. Whatever happens 
to this one or that, it matters not; it is the destiny of these 
people to sail. God’s time has come. The sea may rage, 
the savages of an unknown land may uplift their weapons 
of war, but the time has come for the truth to make a new 
nation of free men, who may own their souls, and found a 
new nation in faith.” 

The pilot turned away and went down to the boats that 
were to take them to the Speedwell which lay at Delfts- 
haven, some ten or more miles away. 

Little Ellen More ran after him. 

O pilot, pilot, do you think that we will ever want to 
come back again?” 

“ ISTo, no, my little one, you will never come back again,” 
said the pilot. 

His words were prophetic. Little Ellen More would 
never come back. 

Of their departure on that day of the glowing prophecy 
of Robinson, and of the dark words of Captain Bradford, the 
leader wrote a single sentence that might well be set in 
gold. Were we to be asked what is the most beautiful 
sentence in all history, we would say it was this : 

So they left that goodly and pleasant city which had 
been their resting place near twelve years, but they knew 







The embarkation of the Pilgrims. 



“BY AHAVA RIVER/ 


25 


that they were pilgrims, and looked not much on those 
things, but lifted up their eyes to the heavens, their dearest 
country, and quieted their spirits.” 

The words pictured Robinson’s own soul, which was the 
sentiment of all. 

That evening the company went on board the boats that 
were to convey them to the Speedwell at Delftshaven; they 
started for the ship early in the morning, and Robinson went 
with them. 

Some of the children wished to go in the boat with the 
pilot, and they were allowed so to do. The older colonists 
sought the boat of Robinson, Brewster, and Carver, that they 
might talk with him as they went along the canal in the late 
midsummer day. 

The barges were moored near the iNan’s Bridge, oppo- 
site the Klok-steeg, where Robinson’s house and garden 
were. 

They were to go by the way of the Yliet, as a part of the 
canal between Leyden and Delft was called. They would 
pass a water gate. After some nine miles on the Yliet they 
would come to a city and wide canal called The Hague. 
They would here find the still placid waters lined with noble 
trees, and they would pass in view of Oud-Delft, and the Old 
Kirk with its lancet windows, and perhaps in sight of the red- 
tiled house in which William the Silent, the father of the 
cause of liberty in the Netherlands, had thirty-six years be- 
fore been assassinated. They would pass the gates of Delft, 


26 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


and leave tlie town, and enter the Delftshaven Canal, at the 
end of which their ship would appear. 

The dikes were high in this part of the Low Countries, 
and the tide was full, and they found themselves sailing 
above the land. They may have stopped at Delft, and 
probably did. If so, their journey lasted a large part of 
the day. 

And now they are upon the canals. 

As they passed the gates of Delft, and beheld the slender 
spire fading against the sky, Elizabeth Winslow called the 
children around her, and pointed out to them the red gables 
of the palace of William the Silent. 

Who was William the Silent? ’’ asked litle Ellen More 
of her foster mother. 

He was the defender of the liberties of the people of 
Holland. Had he not been, it is probable that we should 
never have found in that colony a home. For the sake of 
liberty he broke the dikes of the sand dunes and let in the 
sea. And the sea fought for Holland. He died a martyr, 
and his last thoughts were for liberty.” 

They were approaching the village of Overschie, and the 
children asked Mistress Elizabeth to tell them the story of 
the death of William in the cause of liberty, because of this 
tragedy all the people had heard. 

Mistress Elizabeth was not loth to speak of these things 
with the fading town of Delft, that she would never see 
more, still in view. 


“BY AHAVA RIVER.’ 


27 


THE STORY OF THE SILENT PRINCE. 

“William,” she said, taking Ellen More in her arms, 
“ was a man of few words and wonderful wisdom in council. 
So they called him William the Taciturn, or William the 
Silent. He was bred to courts, and he lived in a very 
splendid way; but when he espoused the cause of liberty he 
sold his valuables and gave up all show and vainglory, and 
was glad to live like one of the people. He announced him- 
self a convert to the Holland faith, and asked to lead the 
armies of the Netherlands in the cause of liberty. 

“ His love for the cause of the liberty of the people grew, 
until he thought and dreamed of nothing else. He felt that 
Heaven had given this cause to him, and that he was invisi- 
bly, as it were, in the little country of the dikes leading the 
hopes of mankind. 

“ The war for liberty was waged against Philip of Spain, 
who claimed the country for the Spanish crown. 

“ William was sometimes successful and sometimes de- 
feated in a long war, but in 1579 he laid the foundation of 
the Dutch Kepublic, and Holland and Zeeland proclaimed 
him their Stadtholder. 

“ But Philip of Spain, enraged at the loss of the country 
which he claimed as his hereditary right, offered twenty-five 
thousand gold crowns for his head. 

“ Perilous days were his then. He went about his new 
republic of freedom as a marked man. The town of Delft 


28 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


was beset with mysterious men — ruffians, some of them, per- 
haps, Spaniards in disguise, some Italians, all adventurers, 
whose presence was suspected and feared. 

There w^as a little, thin, dark-minded man named Bal- 
thazar Gerard, who appeared before the Prince of Parma, in 
the interest of the Spanish king, and asked for money to go 
to Delft as a pretended refugee. The money was refused, 
but a councilor of the prince said to him : ‘ Go forth and 
defray your own expenses, and if you succeed the king 
will reward you, and you shall make yourself an immortal 
name.’ 

“ He came to Delft pretending to be a friend to William. 
He obtained a commission to go to France, and there 
was made a commissioner to bear dispatches to the Dutch 
court, and was admitted into the presence of the prince. 

“ When he met the prince with the dispatches he trem- 
bled. He had come unarmed this time, and he had prepared 
for no way of escape; but the prince’s door was open to him 
now, and he would come again. 

On Sunday morning, as the bells were tolling, Bal- 
thazar entered the courtyard. 

“ ^ What brings you here to-day? ’ asked the sergeant of 
the halberdiers. 

“ ^ I would like to go to church across the way,’ said the 
wily conspirator, ^ but see, I have only this travel-stained 
attire, without fit shoes or hose.’ 

The little d!usty stranger with his pious words did not 


“BY AHAVA river; 


29 


excite tlie suspicion of the guard. The latter spoke to an 
officer about the matter, and the officer probably asked the 
prince for money that the messenger of France might be 
able to appear at church decently. 

“ William’s heart responded to the appeal, and he fur- 
nished Balthazar with the money for his own ruin. 

“ On Tuesday, July 10, 1584, the dinner hour was an- 
nounced in the palace. The prince with his wife on his 
arm, followed by the ladies and gentlemen of his family,, 
started to enter the dining room. The prince was dressed 
like a plain man. He wore a beggar’s hat, a high ruff, and 
a loose surcoat of gray. 

“ As he passed along the white face of a little man met 
him in the doorway. 

“ ^ I have come for my passport, prince,’ said the little 
man. 

‘ Who is that? — what does he mean? ’ asked the prim 
cess, noticing with alarm the pallor of the man’s face. 

‘ Merely a person who has come for a passport,’ said he. 

‘ Give him one,’ he said to his secretary. 

‘ I never saw so villainous a face,’ said the princess to 
William in an undertone. 

“ The company passed on to the tables. After the meal 
William came out into the vestibule, and began to ascend 
the stairway, upon the left side of which was a recess. Sud- 
denly there was a report of a pistol, and the prince fell back, 
exclaiming: 


30 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


‘ 0 my God, have mercy upon my soul ! 0 my God, 

have mercy upon my poor people ! ’ 

“His sister rushed toward him, and saw that he was 
dying. 

“ ^ Do you commend your soul to Christ? ^ she asked. 

“ ‘ I do,’ he answered, and soon after expired in the arms 
of his wife. 

“ Balthazar had accomplished his purpose. He was cap- 
tured and torn to pieces. This is a terrible tale for you to 
hear, but if we should ever lay the foundation of a free 
colony, and it should grow, we shall owe much to him who 
perished for liberty under the red roofs of yonder palace.” 

The children looked back. It was, as we may suppose, 
near night now. Delft was fading. 

The placid canal that led to the port was near. They 
still had some miles to go. We can not be sure of the time, 
but we will suppose it to be near nightfall when the barges 
drifted into the last canal. 

“ That is a hard story, little Ellen More,” said our pilot, 
“ but you should know what liberty costs.” 

“ The Indians could not do a more terrible thing than 
that,” said she. And she added: “ The great chief will be 
good to .us, for we will give him the copper chain.” 


CHAPTEK lY. 


THE PILOT AND THE LITTLE PILGEIMS. THE STORY OF THE 

CAPTIVE INDIAN TUSQUANTO. 

In the long summer twilight and evening the Pilgrims 
drifted along the still waters of the canal between Delft and 
Delftshaven, which is now as it was then. The water runs 
on a level with the wide green plain, on which flocks and 
herds grazed then as now. The great fans of windmills 
turned in the air. Around the mills were farm sheds, with 
walks of powdered shells, and flower gardens that were fan- 
tastically arranged amid the green lawns and that blazed 
with color. As they passed the gates of Delft, two airy 
fortalices shadowed the warm, flower-scented air. They 
could not sleep. Winslow says that the night was passed 
with little sleep for the most, but with friendly entertainment 
and Christian discourse.” There must have been several 
boats, for the Pilgrims numbered one hundred and two, and 
the people who went to Delftshaven to bid them a last fare- 
well in the morning were many, and their baggage was great, 
for many of the exiles had been or were people of means. 

The way from the fortalices of Delft to Delftshaven 
was a clear one. We will picture it as taking place late in 


32 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


the day. The weather was mild. The pilot had little to do, 
and the children turned from Mistress Elizabeth Winslow 
to him, and when he sat down after the afterglow had 
faded, Ellen More said: 

Yon said that you would tell us of the Indians that you 
have met in your voyages.’’ 

Aye, aye, that I did, my little Pilgrim, and if it suits 
you well I will tell you of one that I have seen. He was a 
chief, or a sagamore, or lord, but I did not find him on the 
coast of the new land at all; I met him in England.” 

The children and young people gathered closely around 
the pilot. 

‘^Ah! ah! what are you about to do?” said Captain 
Reynolds. Away with your story-telling, but I would 
not refuse to hear something entertaining myself now, seeing 
everything is so quiet; there is a bit of the child left in me 
yet, and I will take a seat among the children and be a 
child in my ears, as I used to be when my father told sea 
tales of the Hebrides. Go on, go on, and I’ll not bother you. 
The ship goes fair.” 

THE STRANGE STORY OF TUSQUANTO. 

There is a country on the cool side of the sea which 
Sir Francis Drake first saw, which some call Hew Albion, 
but which he named Hew England. There is a harbor there 
which the Virginia Company call Plymouth, from our 
Plymouth. It is a fine country in summer time; great vines 


THE PILOT AND THE LITTLE PILGRIMS. 


33 


are there, heavy with grapes; the sea is full of fish, and the 
sky of birds; but oh, the winters — o-o-o-oh! may you never 
see the like, or hear the wind blow there! 

“ Who has not heard of Sir Ferdinando Gorges? He 
was the friend of Raleigh, you know, and the enemy of 
Essex, as all Englishmen have heard, and he served Eliza- 
beth with so much valor on the sea that the crown made him 
Governor of Plymouth in 1604 — the Plymouth of the oaks, 
the grapes, the harbors of fish, where the sky is full of 
wings, and the summers are so lovely, and the wind blows 
so cold. 

l^ow Plymouth is called by the Indians Pawtuxet, and 
some fifteen or sixteen years ago Captain Weymouth, one of 
the knight’s captains, found at this town of Pawtuxet a 
solitary Indian, a lord, a sagamore, or chief, who told a ter- 
rible tale. Listen to it — it haunts me sometimes when I am 
all alone. 

“ The Indian said that all of his people were dead. That 
a great blight had fallen upon them; that they suddenly 
turned yellow and died, and that there was none left to 
bury them, and that he alone was left. 

Alone, all alone, he had gone to his tent, and cried 
out when there was none to hear. He could only say ^ alone, 
alone, alone,’ to the sea and the stars. 

Was his story true? 

The sailors went on shore; they entered the evergreen 
forests, and wandered among the oaks, the vines and rocks, 


34 THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 

and they found it even as Tusquanto, or Tusqnantum, the 
lonely forest lord, had said. 

‘ The people died in heaps,’ said the solitary Indian. 

They found that it had been so. There were whole 
villages of the dead; the bodies lay unburied, with only 
the ravens to lament for them, 

“ So Tusquanto was left alone with the dead nation, cry- 
ing out on the shores that blosomed still, though the people 
were dead. 

“Captain Weymouth told the wandering chief of his 
own land, of England over the sea. He told him, I think, 
of his master Sir Ferdinando, who would welcome such as 
he. I hope this is so, for some think that he carried Tus- 
quanto away as captive; but be this as it may. Captain Wey- 
mouth sailed away from Plymouth with Tusquanto, the only 
surviving Indian of Pawtuxet. How if I were a poet I 
would write a poem about Tusquanto and his lament for the 
dead tribes. 

“ Sir Ferdinando, of the Virginia Colonization Com- 
pany, was delighted to meet the Indian lord. He took him 
to his courtly home, and instructed him in the English 
language. He taught him how to talk, that the Indian 
might tell him about the country and people over the sea. 

“ Marvelous were the tales that the Indian began to tell. 
Sir Ferdinando used to say that the more he conversed with 
him the better hope he gave him of the lands over which he 
had been made governor. Tusquanto told him of goodly 


THE PILOT AND THE LITTLE PILGRIMS. 


35 


rivers in the new country, of mountains that pierced the 
sky, of roaring waterfalls, of harbors rich in fish, of fruits 
that delighted the taste. 

“ He kept Tusquanto for three years, and then loaded 
him with gifts and sent him back to Hew England as a 
land pilot with Captain Thomas Dermer, a sea rover in his 
service. 

Dermer went to the land of the dead a year ago to see 
if the tales that Tusquanto had told Sir Ferdinando were 
true. 

The men from the ship, guided by Tusquanto, entered 
the forests. The woods were still, save the birds singing 
there. Grand trees and great lakes were there. It was a 
glorious country. Tusquanto had spoken truly. 

They came to a place called Hamasket, now Middle- 
boro, Massachusetts. 

Tusquanto had told them of a great forest king named 
Massasoit. He lived at Pokonoket, a land of green woods 
and bright rivers, a day^s journey away. Captain Dermer 
sent a message to this great forest king. 

Two kings came to meet him. One of them may have 
been a brother to the great king. They were clad in glit- 
tering shells, in plumes, and were followed by stately men 
with bows and quivers of arrows. 

Captain Dermer wondered when these giants appeared. 
He had great reason for surprise, as you shall hear. 

One of the forest lords approached the captain. 


36 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


“ ^ Your face is white/ cried he. ^ You belong to the 
race that steal. You steal our people from the fishing 
grounds, and carry them away. You are here to steal, and 
you shall suffer for your crimes. You shall not return to 
the ship; follow the chiefs! follow me! ’ 

. ‘ Captain Dermer is no thief,’ pleaded Tusquanto. 

^ The whole pale race are thieves! ’ cried the red lord. 
^ They steal our people and carry them away on their great 
boats with wings. Listen! 

“ ^ Many moons ago we found one of your winged boats 
off the shore. 

“ ^ We stole up to it at night and burned it, and we car- 
ried away three of the men. We have kept them to cut wood 
and draw water and to make sport for us. They are with 
us now. You shall follow back the chiefs to cut wood and 
draw water and make sport for us. 

“ ^ The men that we led captive talk our language now. 
One of them says that your God will punish us for what 
we have done to him. But your God can not do it; we 
are too many — we are too many.’ Here the Indian be- 
gan to dance and cry out, ^We are too many! we are too 
many! ’ 

“ Then Tusquanto said : ^ The men whom you hold are 
innocent. They never meant you harm. You do them 
wrong to make them captives.’ 

^ But your people do the same. You must follow us 
back, and cut wood and draw water and make sport for us. 


THE PILOT AND THE LITTLE PILGRIMS. 37 

Your God can not harm us; we are too many! ’ Then he 
danced again. 

‘ I have brought the sea captain here as a messenger of 
a great king/ said Tusquanto. ^ He comes to meet a king 
as a man of honor. We are not to blame for what others 
have done. We came to smoke the pipe of peace.’ 

Then the great Massasoit spoke. 

“ ‘ You are from the king over the sea. We will smoke 
the pipe of peace together, and I will set the captives that we 
hold free. Massasoit is a man of honor! ’ 

Then they smoked the pipe of peace together. It was 
May time. The birds sang and the Indians danced. There 
were Indian runners there, and they brought hack the white 
captives after a little time. The captives were Frenchmen. 

Such is my story; it is substantially a true one. I 
would like to see the great Massasoit. Would not you, my 
children? ” 

The young people dreamed over the tale: the silent 
land; the Indian lord; Tusquanto at the home of Sir Fer- 
dinando; the journey toward the Indian country in the 
silent woods; and the great king Massasoit, who was gov- 
erned by a sense of justice, mercy, and honor. 

I wish that we might live in Massasoit’s country,” said 
little Ellen More. ^^It may be that the copper chain is 
for him. I hope that it is.” 

So thought all the little Pilgrims. 


38 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


We must attend to our own work now, pilot, said 
Captain Kejnolds. Were I to emigrate, I would go to the 
country of Massasoit. He must be a godlike chief.” 

In the last light of the long sunset little Ellen More held 
up the copper chain. Would that chain ever gleam under 
the forest trees on the neck of some bronze lord of the far, 
far West? 


CHAPTER Y. 


EPENOW, THE INDIAN WONDER. 

The rising light of the morning at Delftshaven revealed 
the outline of the Speedwell, which was to take the Pilgrims 
to Southampton. The sails of the ship were already set to 
the fresh breeze. The tide was at its full, and there was 
given them but a brief time for parting after the baggage 
was hurried on board. The pastor fell upon his knees and 
prayed for his flock with streaming eyes. 

The full tide beat against the ship and they must be 
gone. The Union Jack rolled out, and high in the air the 
pennant blew westward. The ship swung away from the 
pier and drifted down the channel along the creeping 
Maas beyond the isle Ysselmonde. The company flred a 
volley with small arms, a cannon boomed, the smoke cleared 
in the sun; Holland faded away, the forms of loved ones 
vanished; they would never see the country nor their old 
friends there again. Their sails were set to the west; they 
were to work the miracle of the ages under the setting sun. 

The young folks gathered around the pilot again when 
they saw that his hands were free. They had dreamed of 

the Indian chiefs of which he had spoken. 

4 


39 


40 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


He told them another story of an Indian captive who 
was still alive, and whom perhaps they would sometime meet 
in the new country, as Indians who could speak English were 
of great value to the colonists. 

EPENOW, THE INDIAN WONDER. 

It was Sir Ferdinando Gorges who used to tell this tale, 
and it was a favorite story among the traders who were look- 
ing for fortunes beyond the sea. 

“ ‘ I was one day surprised,’ said Sir Ferdinando, ‘ to see 
one Henry Harley come bringing to me an Indian giant.’ 

^ Here is an Indian who can talk English,” ’ said Har- 
ley. ^ “ He might be valuable to us as a pilot.” ’ 

“ ‘ From whence does he come? ’ asked Sir Ferdinando. 

« < « From near Plymouth. He was captured with 
twenty-nine other natives, and was taken to Spain to be sold 
for a slave. He escaped slavery, and was brought to London, 
and he has been exhibited here as a wonder^ ’ 

“ A wonder he was, lofty in stature, with a haughty face. 
He used to say ^Welcome! welcome! ’ to the crowds who 
visited him in London. He was a wonder in intellect as well 
as in body. He acquired the English readily, and he soon set 
Sir Ferdinando wondering in the most unexpected way, as 
you shall be told. 

“Sir Ferdinando was ambitious, of great wealth, and 
hoped to hear of a gold mine on the coasts of the northern 
sea^,.such as had been found in Peru. 


EPENOW, THE INDIAN WONDER. 


41 


Tlie Indian wonder came to understand this, and to see 
in it a way of escape. So one day he began to speak of the 
golden treasures worn by the Indian lords of Pokonoket and 
places like that. The eyes of the knight must have enlarged, 
and his hearing become keen. 

^ Gold, Epenow? Did you say gold? ’ 

^ Yes, master, such as your lady wears on her neck. 
Gold, not wampum, but gold.^ 

^ Where did your people find this gold? ’ asked Sir Eer- 
dinando. 

^ In the rocks and in the caves. ^ 

^ Do you know where the caves of gold are? ’ asked the 
trader. 

“ ^ Yes, master. We light our council fires there.’ 

^ Could you pilot my men to the caves of gold? ’ 

^ Yes, master, yes. The Indian lords mingle gold with 
their wampum. Gold is as thick as berries in the wampum 
maker’s lodges. I could take your men to the workers in 
wampum and gold.’ 

Sir Ferdinando needed to hear no more. He fitted out 
a ship and loaded Epenow with presents, and dreamed 
golden dreams, like the Spanish sailor who went to find the 
fountain of youth. 

So the tall Epenow became suddenly not only a won- 
der, but a very great man among the traders, and they sailed 
away with him, and he feasted the minds of the adventurers 
with marvelous tales of the treasures of the country. 


42 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


“ He must have told them how many of the people had 
died of the plague, and they must have imagined that the 
gathering of treasures would be easy in such a land. This 
was in June, 1614. 

They came to the Plymouth country, where there were 
sandy capes and great green islands. 

In the harbor where the ship was moored the wonderful 
Epenow asked leave to invite his friends on board. They 
came and he welcomed them lustily, and probably talked 
much in English for English ears, but he talked with the 
Indians in the Indian tongue for a very different purpose. 
Some of these Indians were his relatives, and among them 
were his brothers. 

“ You may be sure that he and his brothers met most 
graciously, and that he had much to say to them that was not 
in the English tongue. 

“ When they were gone he said to his English friends : 

^ I have invited my people to come to see me again to- 
morrow.’ 

‘ I fear that they would kill thee if it were known to 
them that thou hadst come to reveal the secrets of their 
country,’ said the captain. ^I must guard thee from 
harm.’ 

Then the captain put upon Epenow flowing garments, 
so that he could be caught and held, in case his friends 
should seek to tear him away. He also placed two men 
over him, to guard him during the visit of his friends. 


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EPENOW, THE INDIAN WONDER. 


43 


The next day the Indians came in twenty canoes. 
How lovely they must have looked in the summer sea ! 

“ Epenow shouted to them in English. What he meant 
by this I can not say. He and they knew. 

The captain ordered his musketeers to be prepared 
against any surprise, for all his hopes were centered in the 
friendly service of the Indian giant, who must have looked 
very queerly in his flowing robes. 

The Indians drifted about on the sea in their canoes 
until the captain called to them to come on board. They 
were armed with bows and arrows. 

The chief men came at the captain’s call. 

Epenow was in the hold of the ship. The captain was 
in the forecastle. 

^ Come to me, Epenow,’ said the captain. 

Epenow started up and walked toward the captain, 
the two guards walking beside him. 

Suddenly he was gone. Whence? where? He had 
vanished. He had stepped back. His loose garments were 
seen floating in the air, when nothing more was to be found 
of him. He had gone over the side of the ship. 

‘ I tried to catch him by his coat,’ said a sailor, ^ but he 
could not be stayed.’ 

The sailors rushed to the side of the ship, but were met 
by a flight of arrows. 

The canoes disappeared from the sea as rapidly as 
Epenow had gone over the side of the ship. The musket- 


44 : 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


eers fired, but the swift canoes swept the waters like wings 
of birds, and gone was the wonderful Epenow, and gone 
were the Englishmen’s hopes of finding caves of gold 
through the pilotage of the sharp-witted Indian captive. 

It made the Indians laugh to tell the story of how 
Epenow had got away. 

“ It was a sorry voyage that the English made on their 
return, without gold or treasure of any kind, and with the 
tale of how foolishly they had been outwitted. 

“Fancy Sir Ferdinando when the news was brought to 
him! But the Indian was not more cunning and deceitful 
than had been his captors, and he had a right to be free, 
though not by such arts as these.” ^ 

“ Do you think that we will ever see Epenow? ” asked 
little Ellen More. “ I would be afraid of him.” 

“ You are not unlikely to meet both Epenow and Tus- 
quanto; but were I Epenow, I would be very careful never 
to fall into the hands of the English again.” 

“ I do not blame Epenow for what he did,” said one of 
the boys. “ I would have done the same. Such things 
must make the Indians look upon the traders as enemies. 
Deception does not pay.” 

“ 'Noy my lad,” said the pilot. “ They pay dearly who 
handle this coin, be they English or Indians.” 

“ Is your story quite true? ” asked Wrastle Brewster, one 
of the boys. 


EPENOW, THE INDIAN WONDER. 


45 


“Yes; in substance both the stories of Tusquanto and 
Epenow are true; you must allow a story-teller to use bis 
imagination when that only serves to make a fact a picture.” 

Some four days were passed on the voyage to Southamp- 
ton. There were spires rising in the sunset. Gables — the 
palace where Anne Boleyn spent her few happy days with 
Henry YIII. 

Hetley Abbey gleamed afar. Along the sea were great 
walls mantled with ivy. On the hills rose great clusters of 
oaks. Hear by was the Hew Forest, and farther away lay 
Winchester with its cathedral, where were buried the early 
kings. 

They were approaching the place where Canute ordered 
back the sea and it did not obey him. 

They were in Southampton Water. 


CHAPTEE YI. 


THE STORY OF THE SPEEDWELL. 

The heroes and saints of the world are those who build 
life the direct opposite of their natural character, on the 
principle that it is only that which is true that has any right 
to exist. The Leyden Pilgrims had learned this truth when 
they had given up wealth and the prospects of ease in age 
that they might live for the highest principles of the soul. 
Many of them had been men who had loved their own will, 
but had come to see that strength and power lie in giving up 
one’s will for the good of a common cause. 

The happy midsummer voyage from Leyden was over, 
and their troubles were now to begin. They had fallen into 
the hands of selfish, overbearing men, who were to carry 
them across the sea. They expected to go in two ships. 
The smaller of these was the Speedwell, Captain Eeynolds, 
of which the pilot was good Eobert Coppin. She was a 
pinnace, as we have said, without decks, of some sixty tons. 

The larger ship was the Mayflower, Captain Jones, of 
which Christopher Martin was to be the governor for the 
company, and which awaited them on Southampton Water. 

The voyage of the Speedwell from Delftshaven to 

46 


THE STORY OF THE SPEEDWELL. 


47 


Southampton Water was full of promise. But the little 
ship had been overmasted in Holland, a thing which will 
cause the timbers to spring at sea. It has been claimed 
that this was purposely done, as Captain Keynolds had con- 
tracted to remain in the service of the colony a year, and 
wished to escape his obligation. The charge may not have 
been well founded, but perilous times for the little Speed- 
well were at hand. 

It was the purpose of the Pilgrims to have the Mayflower 
and Speedwell leave Southampton Water about August 
1st, and they expected to arrive on the Hudson Kiver in 
October, after a voyage in summer and early autumn 
weather. 

They were not supposed to he sailing for Plymouth on 
the bleak Hew England coast, where the good Scottish pilot, 
Bobert Coppin, had seen Indians, but for the sheltered 
shores of the Hudson, of which our pilot ” will have some 
stories to tell. 

The overmasting of the Speedwell in Holland, causing 
her to leak as soon as she was out on the high sea, changed 
the whole plan of the voyage, and was the cause of great 
events, which had a powerful and far-reaching influence on 
the destiny of the American nation. The hardships of 
Hew England were to school American life. 

On a serene day in early August the two ships, the 
Mayflower, Captain Jones, and the Speedwell, Captain Bey- 
nolds, sailed out of Southampton Water, leaving behind the 


48 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


beautiful views of the ivied walls and towers. A part of 
the Pilgrims were on the larger and a part on the smaller 
ship. The two ships sailed in view of each other, and every- 
thing indicated a prosperous voyage. The young folks felt 
secure, for our pilot ” was on board. 

The Speedwell crowded on sail, and for a little time 
made her name good. But on the wide sea she began to 
strain under the canvas, and the boards in her hull spread 
apart, and it became hard to keep out the water. The con- 
dition grew worse and worse. 

I must consult Captain Jones,” said Captain Beynolds. 

The pinnace will soon fill with water and will sink. We 
can never cross the sea as we are now.” 

To the leaks we may fancy that Kobert Coppin brought 
the unwelcome jackscrew, and that the boys cheered when 
they saw him about to apply the powerful 'push to a refrac- 
tory beam. The leak was stayed, and we may hear the 
pilot say to Wrastle Brewster: 

Ho, my hearty! ” 

And the boys respond: 

Ho, my hearty! ” 

But a stayed leak may cause two leaks to open. The 
jackscrew could do much, but it could not overcome the 
Atlantic Ocean. 

“ It is little use for a pinnace like this to contend against 
the sea,” said the pilot. We will have to go ashore again.” 

You will not leave us? ” said the boys. 


THE STORY OF THE SPEEDWELL. 


49 


iN'o, no; I have shipped for all the way.’^ 

Some of the boards sprung so that one could lay one’s 
hand between them. It was useless to try to bail out the 
water; one might almost as well have tried to bail the 
ocean. 

It was a bitter disappointment to the Pilgrims to find 
the little ship in this pitiful and perilous state. 

We must go back and repair,” said Captain Keynolds 
to Captain Jones. 

It will cause us to arrive late on the Hudson,” said 
Captain Jones. But we must put back, or the pinnace 
will sink.” 

So the ship put back and anchored in Dartmouth Har- 
bor, and the Speedwell was overhauled, and was made, as 
was supposed, seaworthy. 

The two ships started out again, the Speedwell following 
close to the Mayflower, crovv^ded with her sightly sails. But 
they had hardly gone a hundred leagues beyond Land’s End 
when the Speedwell began to yawn and to leak again, and 
Captain Keynolds declared to Captain Jones that they must 
take back the ship or she would go to pieces. So the two 
ships went back again to the coast — this time to Plymouth. 
They unloaded the Speedwell, sent back twenty discouraged 
people to their homes, and with one hundred and two per- 
sons on board set sail for the Hudson, on the 6th of Sep- 
tember; or, strangely enough, they set sail from Plymouth, 
England, to arrive in Plymouth, Hew England, for it was 


60 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


another power than their own that was directing their 
voyage. 

What a sifting of people there had been to elect the 
heroes who were to make this voyage, in which human 
destiny was so greatly concerned! Macaulay said that God 
sifted the nations of the world to make the band of Pilgrim 
pioneers. Those who had lacked faith had been left behind 
in England; the aged had been left in Holland, and now 
those who had not the courage had been sent home. 

One of the discouraged adventurers, Mr. Cushman, has 
left some account of the terrible days when the Speedwell 
was found leaking. You may like to read it — it is a 
picture. 

Our pinnace [, the Speedwell,] will not cease leaking; 
else, I think, we had been half way at Virginia. Our voy- 
age hither hath been as full of crosses as ourselves have been 
of crookedness. We put in here to trim her; and I think, 
as others also, if we had stayed at sea but three or four hours 
more, she would have sunk right down. And though she 
was twice trimmed at [ South] hampton; yet now she is as 
open and [as] leaky as a sieve: and there was a board, two 
feet long, a man might have pulled off with his fingers; 
where the water came in as at a mole hole. 

Friend, if ever we make a Plantation, GOD works a 
miracle ! especially considering how scant we shall be of 
victuals; and, most of all, ununited amongst ourselves, and 
devoid of good tutors and regiment [leaders and organiza- 


THE STORY OF THE SPEEDWELL. 


51 


tion]. Violence will break all. Where is the meek and 
humble spirit of Moses? and of J^ehemiah, who reedified 
the walls of Jerusalem, and the State of Israel? Is not the 
sound of Rehobo am’s brags daily heard amongst us? Have 
not the philosophers and all wise men observed that, even 
in settled Common Wealths, violent Governors bring, either 
themselves, or [the] people, or both, to ruin? How much 
more in the raising of Common Wealths, when the mortar 
is yet scarce tempered that should bind the walls? 

“ If I should write to you of all things which promiscu- 
ously forerun our ruin, I should overcharge my weak head, 
and grieve your tender heart : only this I pray you. Prepare 
for evil tidings of us, every day! But pray for us instantly 
[without ceasing] 1 It may be the Lord will be yet in- 
treated, one way or other, to make for us. I see not, in 
reason, how we shall escape, even the gasping of hunger- 
starved persons: but GOD can do much; and his will be 
done! ” 

Such a man had not the inspiration for a voyage of the 
Argonauts. He went back among the discouraged twenty, 
as he should have done. 

Robert Coppin brought with him the jackscrew from 
the Speedwell when he came on board the Mayflower for the 
last time. 

The young folks, after all their terrors, cheered when 
they saw the jackscrew in his hand. 

'' It is shipped for all the voyage,” he said, '' like myself. 


52 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


The ocean has beaten me once, but I will have a wrestle 
with her again.’’ 

Cheer, cheer for Robert, our pilot,” said Wrastle Brew- 
ster. 

Don’t call me that,” said the lusty sailor; call me 
Bob. We’ll get somewhere yet, by the aid of the jack- 
screw. It minds me that Providence only knows where we 
will land, but we will land somewhere.” 

And now the Mayflower is on the sea. It is the sixth of 
September. The weather is fair, but the season is getting 
late. In a few days or weeks they may expect the equi- 
noctial gales. 

Captain Jones was a hard, testy man. He domineered 
over the Pilgrims, and their governor insulted them with 
high words. But in the beautiful weather of the early days 
of the voyage he probably did not prevent “ our pilot ” from 
relating to the little Pilgrims his adventures in the Hew 
World. 

England was gone, and the women and the children 
must have felt the influence of the kindly heart of our 
pilot.” 

Tell us new stories now that we are on the new ship,” 
said little Ellen More. 

Once when I was in the woods,” said the pilot, “ I 
saw a little deer amid the cedars, and I made chase for it 
so as to get a range to shoot it for our meat. 

“ I followed it with an Indian trail, when what do you 


THE STORY OF THE SPEEDWELL. 


53 


think I saw? The animal suddenly went up into the air, 
and there it remained. I was amazed. I thought that it 
had fallen under the power of some Indian wizard, who, 
they say, work enchantment. 

But the deer in the air uttered a pitiful cry, and it 
touched my heart. I heeded the cry and went to it. Its 
head was hanging down in the air. Its eyes stood out of 
its head and its tongue was out of its mouth. 

“ It had been caught in an Indian snare. The Indians 
bend over the top of a birch tree and put a noose on it, and 
hold it to the ground by a wooden bar set in two notches in 
trees, so that it will slip out when a foot gets entangled in 
the noose and cause the tree to fly up. This snare had a 
powerful birch for its pole, and the deer was young and 
slender, and so was lifted into the air as by magic. 

I cut the noose, and it did look at me so pitifully that 
I let it go. One hates to kill an animal that he has re- 
leased. We love everything that we help and hate every- 
thing that we injure. So we must love everybody and 
everything.” 

‘^ Even Captain Jones? ” asked the child. 

The pilot did not answer. The wind was fair, the sky 
blue, and the ocean a long, rippling splendor, and such was 
the voyage for many days. 

Will you not tell us some stories of the Hudson, where 
we are going? ” asked Ellen More. 

Aye, I will, if the weather continues fair,” said “ our 


54 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


pilot/’ and it may be like this all of tbe way. But tbe 
season is getting late, and it is storms I fear; I am preparing 
for storms; the time for them is at hand.” 

He told them tales of the sea birds. Captain Jones be- 
times gave him a harsh word, but he was used to such 
treatment on the sea. 

It is not the storms that I fear,” said he, it is the cross 
waves and the sickness that such water brings.” 

The Mayflower went on and on in the bright September 
days. 

They were going, as they thought, to Hew Amsterdam, 
where the Dutch had a great plantation. They were to 
build up an independent English colony beside the Dutch 
colony. So when Pilot Robert promised to relate to the 
little Pilgrims some stories that he had heard in the shipping 
places of the colonist companies in London and in Holland, 
even profane Captain Jones did not object; he liked to hear 
such stories himself. He was looking for rough weather, 
and he did not object to his pilot’s making merry a few idle 
hours when the ship was yet going fair. 

There were some rough and reckless people on board, 
who had the ungovernable spirit of Captain Jones. Brad- 
ford, in his so-called Log of the Mayflower, relates a brief 
but vivid story of the career of one of these. He says, 
writing after the manner of the Puritans: 

^^And I may not omit here a special work of GOD’s 
Providence. There was a proud and very profane young 


THE STORY OF THE SPEEDWELL. 


65 


man, one of the seamen; of a lusty able body, which made 
him the more haughty. He would always be contemning the 
poor people in their sickness, and cursing them daily with 
grievous execrations, and [he] did not let [stop] to tell 
them, That he hoped to help to cast half of them overboard 
before they came to their journey’s end; and to make merry 
with what [property] they had. And if he were by any 
gently reproved, he would curse and swear most bitterly. 

But it please GOD, before they came half [the] seas 
over, to smite this young man with a grievous disease; of 
which he died in a desperate manner and so [he] was him- 
self the first that was thrown overboard. Thus his curses 
light [ed] on his own head; and it was an astonishment to 
all his fellows; for they noted it to be the just hand of GOD 
upon him.” 

In this manner the Pilgrims viewed all of the events of 
life. They believed that Providence was their real pilot, 
and that they were on the sea of destiny. Every event that 
happened they held to be ordered by God. In all things 
their faith was their anchor. They were Argonauts sailing 
not for themselves, but for the welfare of mankind. 


5 


CHAPTEK YII. 


THE TALE OF HENRY HUDSON. 

Day after day the Mayflower moved on under heavy 
sail. The white wings of the birds that followed her far 
out of Southampton Water disappeared, and the ITew 
World’s ark, the ship of the new Argonauts, was steadily 
piloted over the calm solitude of the waters toward the west. 

Many of the passengers who had been sick in the early 
days of the voyage were well again. Governor Carver and 
his wife. Rose Standish and Elizabeth Winslow — ^how sad 
was the fate that awaited these lovely and gentle spirits! — 
might talk now of the nation that they hoped to found where 
the children would be educated in freedom of faith, and in 
which the ancient prophecies should be fulfilled. 

We can fancy Elder Brewster repeating to them the 
ancient Jewish prophecy: 

A stone is about to be cut out of the mountain without 
hands, that will break into pieces all the other nations of 
the earth.” 

^^But what will become of the Indian races?” said 
Elizabeth Winslow, whose heart loved every one and pitied 

all who were unfortunate. 

56 


THE TALE OF HENRY HUDSON. 


67 


“ They will either become converted to God or will 
perish/^ said the elder. They have been a bloody and 
revengeful race, and it may be their hour of salvation is 
come, or that their cup of iniquity is full.” 

We must all labor to bring them to a knowledge of the 
truth,” said the amiable lady. Who do you think these 
races are, and how do you imagine that they found Amer- 
ica? ” 

I think, my lady, that they may be the descendants 
of the lost tribes of Israel. Or they may have been wan- 
derers from the regions of the Mle across Asia in the days 
of the Shepherd Kings. Or they may be the descendants 
of some Mongolian race.” 

“ How did they find America? ” 

“ That would not have been difficult in the long gone 
days. The strait between Asia and America (Behring’s) is 
not wide now, and it must once have been very narrow, and 
perhaps there was once no strait there at all. And nations 
wandering across Asia could have easily made the passage 
to America in boats.” 

“ Oh,” said Mistress Elizabeth, “ if the Indians are the 
descendants of the lost tribes, and we could convert them, 
what a glorious voyage this would be! It makes my heart 
throb to think of it.” 

One of two things,” we imagine the prophetic Carver 
to have said, will happen to these races. They will either 
give up their savagery or perish. That is the law of the 


58 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


human kind when a superior race mingles with a lower 
race.” 

It was Kobinson’s wish that we might win the Indian 
races back to God. Of this he dreams continually; for this 
he prays. Oh, that he could have crossed the sea with us, 
and inspired us for this great work ! ” 

We are being guided by an unseen hand,” said Carver. 

But whether we are to found a new nation or to convert 
an old one we can not see; we can only know that whatever 
may happen, the law of righteousness will live, and those 
who obey it will rise and those who reject it may fall.” 

Our people have not treated the Indian races well on 
their voyages,” said Bose Standish. I hope we will follow 
the heart of Eobinson in all that we do.” 

The October moon was on the sea. The ship was drift- 
ing fair, and Eobert Coppin, the pilot, came toward this 
group who were reviewing the thoughts of Elder John Eob- 
inson in regard to the conversion of the Indians, and listened 
to their hopes and plans. 

The young people and children gathered around him. 
The little audience was almost a solid one, and they engaged 
in most earnest conversation as the ship’s lights swayed under 
the moon and stars. 

When the older people had ceased to talk in regard to 
the conversion of the Indians, Love Brewster said : 

How let me ask ^ our pilot ’ what he has heard in re- 
gard to the Hudson Eiver, where we are going. Pilot 


THE TALE OF HENRY HUDSON. 


59 


Coppin, who was Henry Hudson, and how did he find the 
river where the Dutch have settled? We should surely 
know more of him.’’ 

To this inquiry Elder Brewster assented as one emi- 
nently proper to be made. Mistress Bradford, Mistress 
Standish, and Mistress Winslow seemed as interested in the 
question as the boys Jasper Richard More and Wrastle and 
Love Brewster. Mary Allerton and Priscilla Mullins sat 
side by side, eager to hear what Coppin would say. The 
whole company became silent, and under the moonlit sails 
Robert Coppin related the following strange story: 

CAST ADRIFT. 

It is a story to draw tears that I will tell you now. 

There was once a hardy sailor, and where he is now no 
one knows, be he living or dead. His name was, as you 
have already guessed, Henry Hudson, and he dreamed of 
making great discoveries in the north after the manner of 
those that had been made in the Spanish Main. His early 
life is a mystery, but he had one boy whom he dearly loved, 
and he took this boy wherever he went on his many voyages. 

^^He made many voyages, and those of them to the 
north had filled the shipping world with wonder. He pre- 
pared for a fourth voyage, on which he expected to find a 
polar sea. 

While dreaming of the lands he would discover, and 
that would make him rich and famous, he became acquainted 


60 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


with a young man of most engaging manners but dissolute 
habits, named Henry Greene. The better class of people 
had withdrawn from association with this false-hearted 
youth, and even his own family had left him to his own 
fate. 

“ The great navigator pitied him, and sought to reform 
him. He took him into his heart and his own home, and he 
said to him one day: 

“ ‘ Henry, go with me to the north. You shall share in 
the glory of the discoveries we will make, and on your return 
I will report you to the crown and secure for you a place in 
the royal service.’ 

“ Henry Greene loved roystering and dissolute company, 
but he was so abandoned by friends and fortune that he 
accepted the invitation to sail to the mysterious countries 
of the north, where the nights were long, where the ice 
mountains glittered in the moon, where the northern 
lights filled the sky with wonder. So he made himself a 
devoted friend of the captain, and Henry Hudson sailed 
away for Greenland in April, some eleven years ago (1610), 
with insufficient provisions, and he reached Greenland in 
June. 

They came to a strait in the ice lands that led to an 
inland sea (Hudson Bay). Here was a land of desolation 
and surprise. But it was a land of winter and night, of 
savage animals and lone Indians. 

The summer passed, and Hudson, having failed to find 


THE TALE OF HENRY HUDSON. 


61 


a country that promised him wealth, proposed to his men to 
winter in the wild regions of darkness, ice, and snow. 

He was a quick-tempered man, although he so much 
loved his son and had taken such a friendly interest in the 
fascinating Henry Greene. 

The men rebelled at the thought of staying in the 
land of desolation, where there was neither wealth nor 
glory for them. They knew that their provisions were 
scanty, and there was hut a poor prospect of hunting in 
the cold. 

‘ I will have to leave some of you behind,’ said the 
irritable captain, when the men complained that the ship’s 
provisions were getting low. 

The men began to plot against him, and among his 
secret enemies was Henry Greene. 

One day, when his friends were below decks, one of 
the conspirators closed the hatch and shut them down, and 
the mutineers at once seized the captain and bound him, and 
put him, with his son and some friends, among them a 
faithful carpenter, on board the shallop, which they had 
towed after the ship. They then formed a company of their 
own to sail the ship, and they made Henry Greene captain, 
and resolved to return immediately to England. That 
was a dark day when Henry Hudson, a man of noble parts, 
met Henry Greene. 

“ For a time the ship drew the shallop after her. Then 
came the fatal time to cut the rope. As they did so, the 


62 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


lost navigator heard a voice ringing through the air that 
pierced his heart. 

“ It was that of the villain, Henry Greene ! 

Henry Greene, captain, sailed away, leaving the shal- 
lop rocking on the icebound sea, with only provisions for a 
few days. Whatever became of Henry Hudson we do not 
know. Ships were sent out to find him, but he was never 
seen. He probably has perished amid the ice, he and his 
faithful son. 

“ But we do know what became of the faithless Henry 
Greene. He landed on the coast for provisions, and was 
set upon by the natives and murdered. 

The survivors undertook to take the ship home. Their 
provisions failed, and when they came to Iceland they were 
too weak to walk the decks. They told their tale. So all 
of these people who were engaged in plans to cast others 
adrift were themselves cast adrift on the sea and on the 
world. 

“ But it was this same Henry Hudson, with his faithful 
boy, who discovered the land for which we are now sailing, 
and which they call Hew Amsterdam. He passed through 
raging waters [Hell Gate] and came to a most beautiful bay, 
and sailed up a river through a land of plenty, which we may 
find, and have better luck than he. The best thing that 
can be said of any man is that he is true-hearted, and all who 
are will have the heartache some day in this troubled world. 

“ It is a hard and lonesome story.” 


THE TALE OF HENHY HUDSON. 


63 


“ Is it the Hudson River that was found by the captain 
whom they cast adrift in the ice to which we are going? ’’ 
said little Ellen More to our pilot, as he sat with a very 
troubled and far-away look in his face. 

Ah ! child, ah ! child, you may well ask me that. 
Older heads might think that question. I wonder myself if 
we shall find ourselves there at last.’’ 

The child was startled at the strange look in the pilot’s 
face. She laid her white hand on his rough palm and 
said: 

“ It may be that we will go to the country of the 
great and good Indian king of whom you spoke. It 
may be that we are carrying the copper chain to him. It 
makes me feel glad to think of it. How I should like to 
see him wearing it with a pleased look! And all under 
the greenwood trees. Do you think I will. Pilot Cop- 
pin?” 

The pilot smiled and then he shuddered. 

The Mayflower was carrying a dark secret in the head of 
her captain which it is probable that only the pilot suspected. 
His suspicion, were it so, would not have troubled him had 
not his heart turned toward the Pilgrims in their high pur- 
pose, struggles, and sufferings. 

Was the Mayflower really bound for the Hudson 
River? 

Only Captain Jones and the planters of the Dutch col- 
onies in England and Holland really knew. But the 


64 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


pilot would know some day. There would come to him 
a secret order from Captain Jones that would disclose to 
him his real purpose. So under a dark secret were they 
crossing the sea; the angel of Providence was still in all 
events. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE VOYAGE OF THE MAYFLOWER. “ A MAN OVERBOARD.” 

The serene days passed, and cross waves began to shake 
the ship and to cause a renewal of seasickness among the 
passengers. The blue sky became overcast and wild, sullen 
under clouds drifted across the wide gray canopy of cloud 
that shut out the sun. 

Storms were approaching. One of them struck the ship 
in such a manner as to cause her to strain and tremble. The 
waves became higher and higher. The sea rolled green and 
white under a dim gray light. 

The Mayflower was in the middle of the great ocean, 
and a hundred times a day seemed to be lost as she sank 
into the trough of the sea. 

The first storm was succeeded by another. The rain 
fell in sheets and the nights were blackness. The wind 
lashed the waves. It seemed impossible that the ship could 
ever survive the war of the elements that raged on every 
side. 

0 pilot,” said Rose Standish, “ did you ever see 
weather like this before? ” 

Many a time, lady.” 


65 


66 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Did the ship live? ’’ 

“ You may comfort your heart when I tell you that she 
did.’’ 

We are hut a speck in infinity,” said Mistress Bradford, 
“ and I do not feel that I shall ever rest my foot on the land 
again. But what matters it if you may live to carry the 
Gospel to the Indians? I have ceased to care for myself.” 

Storm followed storm. One day Captain Jones said to 
the pilot: 

^^We can not bear a bit of sail; we shall he forced to 
hull ” (to drift without sails). 

The days when the ship was in hull were terrible indeed. 
All felt their helplessness. The women cried; the children 
gathered in a pitiful group and cried out: 

0 pilot, when will this weather be over? ” 

Keep up your courage, my hearties. I have weath- 
ered storms as hard as these. You shall live to see sunny 
skies again, and great oak forests, and Indian kings. Heav- 
en holds her own in her hands, and John Robinson’s prayers 
have not gone up to heaven in vain. Trust, trust, trust ! ” 

Poor little Ellen More clung to the pilot wherever he 
went, even at the wheel. 

1 am all alone,” she said; “ you do pity me, don’t you? 
I am all alone in the world and on the sea.” 

It is the Mistress Winslow that is good to ye,” said the 
pilot. She is good to everybody. You must cling to her, 
and not to a poor rover like me.” 


THE VOYAGE OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


67 


But, pilot, I love jou.’^ 

^^Love me, love me, Ellen More? Oli, that these dull 
old ears should ever hear that. 0 my little girl, that goes 
right to my heart, and while Robert Coppin lives you shall 
never want for a friend. Little Ellen More, I would die 
for such as thou.” 

O Master Coppin, do you say that? Suppose we 
were to go down? ” 

Then I will go down with thee in my arms. What 
ami? — a poor sailor! What is life to me? I am not sent to 
convert the Indians. I would love to die for such a heart 
as yours, Ellen More.” 

You will let me cling to you, wonT you? ” 

Yes, yes, my darling heart. This old pilot will let you 
do that — he will now.” 

^^At the wheel?” 

^Wes, at the wheel.” 

^‘And if I should die, you tell me the way I must go. 
Pilot, pilot, you will tell me the way.” 

0 Ellen More, Ellen More, this breaks my heart. But 
I will be true to the wheel. If a true heart will bring us to 
land, you will see the light of the shore again. Living or 
dying, I will be true to thee, Ellen More.” 

And I will cling to thee. Pilot Robert — ^let me call you 
that — you are our pilot.” 
no, child.” 

Then who is? ” 


68 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


God. He holds the waters in the hollow of his hand.” 

As the ship lay in hull, drifting sailless and helpless, a 
great wave dashed over her, and the cry arose : 

“John Howland has gone overboard! ” 

“ Overboard ! a man overboard ! ” passed from lip to lip. 

“ John Howland is overboard! ” cried the captain. 

The ship was rolling from side to side. One could see 
but a little way ahead, for everywhere in a dim light rose 
the billows. 

John Howland, who was in the service of Governor John 
Carver, was a strong, lusty young man, one of the last of the 
passengers who would seem likely to meet with any accident. 

He had come above the gratings when the ship was roll- 
ing and the waves dashing above the decks, and had been 
thrown into the sea. 

“ John Howland is overboard! ” said little Ellen More to 
the pilot, in terror. “ You save him, oh do! ” 

The topsail halyards hung over the helpless ship and 
out into the water. 

John Howland went down some fathoms under the 
waves, but he was buoyed up, and, strange as it may seem, 
caught hold of the dragging halyards under the sea, and his 
strong arm held to them with a grasp like death. 

The pilot saw that the halyards were shaken by a power 
under the waves. 

“Haul up the halyards, gently, gently, for Heaven’s 
sake, gently, man! ” 


THE VOYAGE OF THE MAYFLOWER. 09 

He seized the ropes. 

They drew up the halyards. John Howland came up 
with them. The pilot shouted as he saw the young man’s 
head. 

Saved! ” he cried. ^^Pass the word. John Howland 
is saved! It is a miracle.” 

They drew John Howland up into the ship by a boat 
hook. 

“ But for the halyards I should have perished,” said the 
young man. 

^^But for the providence of God you would have per- 
ished,” said Elder Brewster. 

They carried him below and laid him down. The 
shock left him with but little strength and he fell ill. 

John Howland, a good spirit was with thee in the 
storm,” said the pilot. You will recover, and will see 
the light of land. May be that you will live to tell 
your grandchildren of this strange event ; may be you 
will.” 

Calmer weather came under colder skies. The women 
shrank from the chill. The children felt the bitter weather, 
all except little Ellen More. She tented under the great sea 
coat of Pilot Kobert, and helped him with brace and wheel 
to direct the rudder to the gray west. 

November was now on the ocean. One of the passen- 
gers, William Butler, in the service of Dr. Samuel Fuller, 
we think, fell very sick. He longed to see the new land, 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


'TO 

and the heart of all went out to him as he lay in his bunk 
day by day, tossed by the dark agitated sea. 

One morning a deep silence fell upon all. 

“ It is over,’’ said Dr. Fuller to our pilot. You must 
do your office.” 

They wrapped the body in the scanty clothing he had 
brought in his chest. 

Then Elder Brewster knelt down beside the dead, and 
the sublime words of Hebrew' psalmody, ^^Lord, thou hast 
been our dwelling-place in all generations,’’ rose amid the 
storm. 

Our pilot took up the body gently and laid it in the 
great graveyard of the deep, and as it sunk from sight for- 
ever all bowed in tears, and heard the elder’s voice saying: 

“ Until the deep gives up its dead! ” 


CHAPTEK IX. 


THE MAYFLOWEE AT SEA. A LEAK. BEAR HARD TO THE 

WEST.’’ 

In these troubled days of the equinox, the cross seas, and 
the long-continued fall storms, the captain was one day seen 
to be in an unusually ugly and profane mood. He called to 
him the ship’s carpenter and stormed at him, then the 
pilot, and talked to him in a high tone. One of his exclama- 
tions rose above the winds. It was: 

If it can not be replaced we shall all go down, and the 
ranters will go with us. That is all.” 

Some of the Pilgrims, many of whom were lying on their 
beds, which were soaked with the dashing of the sea, heard 
these ominous words and started up. The dismal exclama- 
tion of Captain Jones was passed from one to another, and 
when it reached little Ellen she said: 

Then I will never live to give the copper chain to the 
red forest king. But Pilot Bohert, he can save us. A soul 
like his has power with God.” A great sea dashed upon the 
ship, and the water came over the decks. 

Edward Winslow went to the pilot, seeing that the cap- 
tain was in no mood to be questioned. 

6 


71 


72 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


“Pilot, wliat was it that the captain said? That the 
ship was in danger? ’’ 

“ The ship is straining, sir, and there is a leak. The 
main beam has sprung out of place.’’ 

Edward Winslow went back to the men of the May- 
flower. 

“ The ship,” said he, “ is straining from stem to stern. 
Even our pilot says that we are in danger.” 

“ What shall we do? Shall we have to return? ” asked 
many voices. 

The captain came below. 

“Is the ship in danger? ” asked Elder Brewster. 

“In danger? Well, I should say she was. The main 
beam is sprung, and the men are toiling at the pumps. 
What a miserable expedition all this is! ” 

“Would you advise us to return?” asked the governor 
of the ship, who was the adviser of the Pilgrims. 

“ !N’o! ” thundered the captain. “ It is as far from here 
to England as it is to America. We will go on or go down. 
We would be as likely to go down in an attempt to return as 
we would to go on. [N’o, no, whistle, ye winds, and dash 
over us, ye seas! We will go on or down, and it is down 
tliat we will go unless the beam can be forced into place 
again.” 

Many of the women — the Pilgrim mothers — were sick, 
but they started up and began to pray and to talk in the 
language of faith to each other. 


THE MAYFLOWER AT SEA. 


73 


The waves rolled high, and the ship quivered, and the 
leak grew. There were faith, terror, brave words, and falter- 
ing lips among the little nation sitting by their sea-soaked 
beds in the dim light below. Sea after sea smote the wind- 
ward side of the ship. The frail bark seemed as a thistle 
down in a i^ovember hurricane. 

For hours the terror lasted. Mght came, a darkness of 
death. Few dared to sleep. 

The gray morning rose over the ocean. The sailors were 
worn out, and hope seemed to have fled. 

At last the Pilgrims heard a firm step on the stairs. 
There was faith in it, and it was coming down. The men 
lifted their hands when they saw who it was. The women 
cried out and wept. 

Robert Coppin, our pilot,” said Elizabeth Winslow, 
can you save the ship? ” 

Pilot Robert, you have come to be our Moses,” said 
Rose Standish. I can feel it, I can feel it.” 

God help you to save us,” cried Mistress Carver. 

A child^s voice rose above the rest. 

/^He will! he will!” 

It was Ellen More. 

The pilot bent his face, £ull of love and pity, on the 
child. 

I will do everything human power can for you, my 

girl.” 

The chief must have the copper chain,” said she. 


74 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Aye, aye, and I have seen as dark a stress of weather as 
this, but never a ship so strained in mid-ocean.” 

A new resolution seemed to come to him with the words 
of the child and the vision of the copper chain. 

He suddenly put his hand to his head and exclaimed: 

Thank God!” 

What? ” asked many voices. 

The jackscrew, boys, where is the jackscrew? Bring 
me the jackscrew! ” 

They brought the curious instrument out of the baggage; 
he seized it and rushed toward the broken rib of the ship, 
crying, “ Send the ship’s carpenter to me ! ” 

He applied the power of the screw to the beam, or rib, 
which had been wrenched from its place. The ship’s car- 
penter joined him at once, and Wrastle and Love Brewster 
stood by him and a crowd gathered around him. 

The captain came roaring down and cleared the boys 
away. 

‘^A jackscrew!” cried one of the officers. A jack 
straw might answer as well.” 

But the beam is moving back,” said the pilot. 

^^Then,” said the officer, ^^the Power that uplifted the 
arm of Moses must be in it; if you can do that you can do 
more than old Canute did when he ordered back the sea.” 

But the beam moved. Slowly, and at times it obeyed 
the power applied, when the ship righted and the beam was 
lifted into its place. 


THE MAYFLOWER AT SEA. 


75 


“ The beam does not spring back/’ said the pilot, and 
I move it into place a little every time the ship rights.” 

Hour by hour he applied the jackscrew, and the captain 
and the officers of the ship and the Pilgrim company came 
and stared as they saw Robert Coppin and the ship’s car- 
penter overcoming the elements and the adverse forces of 
gravitation, until the rib of the ship stood firm again. 

At last the pilot started up. 

^^Wrastle Brewster,” said he, go and tell little Ellen 
More that the Mayfiower is safe! It was not the jack- 
screw — no, no, it was a Power behind the jackscrew 
that guided us and has provided for us. Providence 
has ordered that the Pilgrim company shall build an 
everlasting habitation of faith and freedom beyond the 
sea! ” 

They came to calmer waters. 

The Indian summer weather, so beautiful upon the land, 
sends its influence far out to sea. 

One day the captain said to Pilot Robert: 

We must run landward soon. Steer hard toward the 
west.” 

Captain, it is the Hudson River for which we are 
booked to sail.” 

. Pilot Robert Coppin, don’t you dare to reply to me or 
to ask me any questions. It is your office to obey, and not 
to reason aloud or to argue with any one. I know my busi- 
ness, sir. Steer hard toward the west.” 


76 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


“ You surely are not deceiving tliese poor people? 

“ The people’s affairs are no part of your duties, sir. 
Steer toward the west. If we shall touch upon the Plym- 
outh country what is that to you? You are to obey me, 
sir, and to ask no questions. I have given you great liber- 
ties in this voyage, and these people seem to have brought 
you over to them. They did not employ you; it was I, 
and I know what I am doing, and do not want and will never 
receive any unasked-for advice from any inferior officer. 
So not one word more. Cease you story-telling; stop all 
this association with women and children. Attend in the 
future strictly to your own duties, and bear toward the 
west! ” 

Robert Coppin, pilot, had probably expected such an 
order. He understood it. It was in his contract to obey 
the captain and not to follow his own sense of equity, of the 
truth of which he could not be sure. 

But to bear hard to the west ” would take the ship to 
a long sandy cape in Massasoit’s country, before it could 
come to the Hudson River. That cape was known as Male- 
bar and also as Cape Cod. 

What was the captain’s purpose in prolonging the jour- 
ney amid the wintry seas? 

Had he been bribed by the Dutch to keep away from 
their rich territory at Manhattan? 

If so, no one on board but the pilot could have suspected 
it at this time. 


THE MAYFLOWER AT SEA. 77 

So the Mayflower goes on her way over the troubled 
waters. 

There is a white wing in the sky. A sea bird appears. 
The pilot bears hard to the west! 

Beside the jackscrew there were other things that the 
Pilgrims were bringing over the sea that excited the in- 
terest of all in the days of quiet water. Elizabeth Wins- 
low had a curious mortar and pestle. Where would it 
And use? 

Mistress Brewster had a looking-glass, into which it was 
the delight of the young people to see their faces. It was 
taken out of the chest at times and passed around, and was 
very carefully handled. It answered the question: 

How do I look now? ’’ 

Mistress Elizabeth Winslow had a very beautiful flgured 
mat, which was like a picture to unroll. It was green. 

It is flne enough for a king,’’ said Pilot Coppin one 
day when Mistress Winslow had unrolled it. “ The Indian 
kings sit down on the ground when they are in council. 
Perhaps we shall hold a council with an Indian chief some 
day. If so, we would want that mat.” 

The Indian chief smokes in his council,” said John 
Billington, the boy. Perhaps Tie would want your silver 
pipe.” 

That is a point well taken, my boy. But I would be 
slow to give away the pipe that the Traders’ Company gave 
to me. Let me go to get the pipe.” 


78 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


It was in the few calm days of the latter part of the voy- 
age. The people seemed all to fall into the spirit of amusing 
and entertaining each other. 

So Mistress Brewster brought out the looking-glass and 
laid it down on the famous chest on which the compact 
would one day be signed, and the sea-worn people looked 
into it to see how they looked now.’^ 

Mistress Brewster spread out the green rug before the 
chest, and Pilot Coppin came bringing the silver pipe, which 
was his special treasure, it having been given him for faith- 
ful service on the high seas. 

Others brought out litle keepsakes and treasures, and 
related the simple history of them. 

John Billington had a quick fancy. He began to tell 
little Ellen More a fairy story : how that the mat would some 
day be unrolled under the oaks of Virginia, and a great king, 
with fur robes and feathers and pearl shells, would come and 
sit upon it, and smoke the silver pipe. 

Ellen, too, was a child of imagination, and she called 
Pilot Coppin to hear the wonderful tale that John had 
told. 

“ Strangely enough,” he said, such dreams as these 
come true. The souks purpose is in them and behind them. 
I believe in fairy stories, though others do not. There is 
good suggestion in them. The world is governed by sug- 
gestion.” 

Say you that. Pilot Coppin? ” asked Elder Brewster. 


THE MAYFLOWER AT SEA. 79 

Yes, yes, think of the power of the suggestion in the 
parable of the prodigal son ! ” 

You may be right. Pilot Coppin. I had not thought 
of life in that way, but I will take a look at it so. You are 
a very hopeful man. A ship needs a hopeful man for a 
pilot.’’ 

“ So does the ship of life. Elder Brewster; one that 
would say good cheer if a boat were going to pieces on the 
waves, and in that spirit the chances are that we would not 
be lost.” 

'Whales were seen spouting in these days of calmer water. 
The ship drove on and on, into the sunlight, into the shade, 
into the red morning, into the pale starlight, into the night. 

Whither go they? The sails are the wings of destiny. 
Wliither go they? The nation of nations is on the sea. 
On and on. 

On and on. Will the mat ever be spread for an Indian 
king, or the copper chain given to chief or sagamore? On 
and on! 


CHAPTER X. 


THE LEGENDAEY SWOKD. 

The Pilgrims were long making preparations for their 
journey, and they crowded into their baggage many strange 
and curious things beside the copper chain and the jewel to 
give to some great forest lord. Some of these curious things 
are still to be found in old houses in the cape towns and 
elsewhere among Puritan descendants. 

Among these interesting relicts none is more wonderful 
than Miles Standish’s sword, which may still be seen in 
Pilgrim Hall in Plymouth. 

When the seas began to run smoother again, the boys 
and girls of the Mayflower importuned Robert Coppin for 
stories in the idle hours. 

Who were the boys and girls of the Mayflower? It was 
the colonization plan of Robinson, of Leyden, that the 
young people should sail first for the founding of a new 
colony, and that the older people should follow them. He 
himself expected to join them in the Xew World when the 
fathers of the Pilgrim republic should sail, but he did not 
live to follow them. The pilot of the Argo of old did not 


THE LEGENDARY SWORD. 


81 


return, and tlie prophets of great movements do not often 
live to see them fulfilled, except in faith and promise. 

When we look at the names of the boys and girls of the 
Mayflower, it would seem that they were a large part of the 
company of that ship of destiny. One wonders as one 
reads it. 

There were Jasper More and William Latham, two boys 
in the service of John Carver, the first governor. Jasper 
More died in Cape Cod harbor. 

There were Love Brewster and Wrastle, or Wrestling, 
Brewster, two sons of Elder Brewster, and Bichard More 
and his brother, in the same family. 

There was Ellen More in the Winslow family. She was 
a sister of the boys of the same name. The More children 
were orphans. 

There were Bartholomew Allerton, Kemember and 
Mary Allerton, and John Hooke, a servant boy in the Aller- 
ton family. 

There were Joseph Mullins, a child, and the famous 
Priscilla Mullins, a girl, in the Mullins family. 

There was Resolved ^Vliite. Peregrine White was born 
on board of the Mayflower. 

There were Giles Hopkins and Constance Hopkins, and 
three more children of the Hopkins name. Oceanus Hop- 
kins was born on the Mayflower. 

There were two boys in the Billington family, John and 
Francis. 


82 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


There were Henry Samson and Humility Cooper, both 
children in the Tilley family, and John Tilley and Elizabeth 
Tilley, a son and daughter. 

There were Mary Chilton, Joseph Kogers, and John 
Cooke, and a son in the Tinker family; Samuel Fuller and 
two boys by the name of Turner. There were Samuel 
Eaton, a baby, and several young people in the service of 
the principal families. 

There were thirteen children of the leading Pilgrims on 
board, and most of these were boys. Hobly enough, the 
Pilgrims brought their adopted children, or the children of 
their charity, with them. 

There were more than twenty young people on board the 
ship, and to these our pilot,” who had seen Indians and 
gazed on the wonderful shores and fishing grounds of the 
new land, became more and more interesting; his heart 
drew them all to him; he was “ Sinbad the Sailor ” to these 
young emigrants. 

Miles Standish was the man of valor among the com- 
pany. Of him the young people must have stood in awe. 

But one day when the sun was struggling through the 
clouds and the waves were merciful, the boys, among whom 
were the Brewsters, ventured to look at Miles Standish’s 
sword. 

It was a very curious sword. It had an inscription on it 
that no one could read. The emblems of the sun, moon, 
and stars were stamped upon it. 


THE LEGENDARY SWORD. 


83 


“ That is a strange sword that you have, Master Stand- 
ish,” ventured Wrastle Brewster, who was young and bold. 
Would you like to see it bend? ” 

Aye, aye. Master Standish ! ” cried the boys. 

The stout man bent the sword and said: 

A Damascus blade, or like it.^’ 

Where did it come from? ’’ asked Kichard More. 

From the air! ” 

The boys’ eyes were filled with surprise. 

“ There are mines in the air as well as on the earth,” 
said Standish. This sword is said to have been made of 
meteoric metal.” 

“ When was it made? ” asked Wrastle Brewster. 

“A thousand years ago, it may be,” said the sturdy 
man, fiashing it in a sunbeam. ^‘In the days of Charle- 
magne, or of Peter the Hermit, or of the Crusades. I do 
not know when it was made. It is claimed that it was once 
a magic sword, but the charm upon it does not extend to 
me. I have nothing to do with any heathenish enchant- 
ments.” 

“ What is engraved upon it? ” asked Mary Allerton. 
That John Bobinson, with all his learning, was not 
able to tell. An old man in Amsterdam poked it over with 
his long nose, and said that those were magic words to pro- 
tect a devotee from evil. But I am no devotee to the faith 
of the pagans for which the charm was wrought. My pro- 
tection comes only from my faith, honor, and courage.” 


84: the pilot of the MAYFLOWER. 

^^Wliere did you get it?’’ asked little Ellen More, as 
Kobert Coppin lifted her up above the beads of those who 
were crowding close to the rugged Standish. 

“E^ow why did you ask that, little girl? That is a 
secret, a story.” 

“ Tell us the story. Master Standish,” said Ellen More. 

Pilot Coppin tells us stories. Do stories hurt any one? ” 

^^E^o, no, my little girl. It is Coppin’s little girl you 
seem to be — he has made you that by stories. Stories are 
fairy lands to such as you — well, never mind, the world is 
governed by imagination. I might refuse the boys, but I 
could never refuse such as you; marry, I could not. Well, 
here is the story of the sword, and an old one it is. Sit 
down and you shall hear! ” 

The short, stout, ruddy man turned the sword upward, 
as saluting on parade. 

I was once, as you know,” he said, “ a soldier in the 
Netherlands. Ears, all, and be quiet while I speak. In 
those days we were in Ghent, and one day I beheld a com- 
pany of soldiers about to capture a girl who was out on 
some errand in the streets. I protected the girl, and en- 
abled her to return safely home. 

Her father was an old armorer. He was very grateful 
to me for what I had done, for his daughter seems to have 
been all the world to him. So one day he made his way to 
me. He had something under his silk mantle. Ears all, 
now, and be quiet while I am talking. 


THE LEGENDARY SWORD. 


85 


want to speak with you in private/ said he. ‘Is 
any one around? ’ 

ISTo one, sir,’ said I. 

“ He began to unfold his silken scarf or mantle. 

“ ‘ You saved my daughter,’ said he. ‘ I have brought 
a little present to you — not much to look upon, but it is the 
most precious gift I have. It came from the skies.’ 

“ He drew back the mantle fold by fold, and the sword 
appeared. 

“ ‘ Meteor metal,’ said he. ‘ Damascus, and it has a 
grand legend, one worthy to make it sacred to a man of 
honor.’ 

“ He held it aloft, looking around to see that no one 
was approaching. 

“ ‘ What is the legend? ’ I asked, and motioned him to 
sit down. 

“ He sat down. An animation as of youth came into his 
withered face. How intense and how grateful he looked, 
that old armorer of Ghent! 

“ He said that when he was a young man he went to the 
East to engage in the war against the Turks, to bear the 
Cross against the Crescent. He was taken prisoner, and was 
carried into an Ottoman town, and there was cared for by 
a very beautiful young woman. She came to love him, and 
she told him of her love; but he said to her that there was 
one whom he loved and who loved him in his own land, and 
that to be a true man to all good people his heart must be 


86 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


true to her. Then the young woman loved him because his 
heart was true to the woman in the West, and to show him 
her respect for his honor she gave him this sword, which she 
said had been used in the Persian wars, and had a magic 
power to protect any man of honor from harm. Ears, all; 
be still while I speak. My honor shall protect me from 
harm, and this sword shall guard my honor, and the sword of 
Standish shall not only protect me from harm but you from 
harm, my little Ellen, and all you boys and girls from harm 
if you are ever in peril. It shall be drawn in honor for 
you all.” 

“ I shall never fall into harm,” said little Ellen More, 
“because I am carrying to the chief the copper chain. 
The red chiefs do not harm those who carry them pres- 
ents.” 

“ E'o, no,” said John Alden, “ and gifts from the heart 
are more powerful for good than swords.” 

The sun was still struggling among the clouds, and the 
sea was growing rough again. A wild night followed. The 
next morning at daybreak came a cry from a sailor, perhaps 
in the rigging. 

“Land! I see land!” 

They rushed to the deck. 

Captain Jones was standing on deck staggering against 
a breeze, but with a broad smile on his face. 

“ I see land ! ” said Robert Coppin, shading his eyes. 

“ Where? ” said Ellen More. 


THE LEGENDARY SWORD. 


S7 


There! answered Coppin, pointing; there, in the 
gray light.'' 

That is a cloud," said Mary Allerton. 

No, no, my girl, a cloud lies not low like that. I can 
see it glint. Look at the flocks of birds flying low there." 

And the whales," said Ellen; one, two, three! " 

Back, children, back," said Pilot Coppin, and leave 
me to my duty now." 

There was great excitement on hoard. The sun disap- 
peared, another storm was overhanging the sea. 

But this was not the Hudson Biver, it was Cape Cod. 

The ship plowed on under heavy sail, with rough 
waters before it. Several passengers were sick, and the cry 
of land set their pulses to beating again. 

“ I wish that it were here we were to land," said several 
of the men as the clouds lowered above them, and these men 
were sailors. 

Hearer and nearer drew the ship to the land. The 
captain was advised to seek shelter here. 

Land! But there was no one to welcome them; no 
houses, no warm inns, no hospitable roofs of any kind. 

Winter was near. The trees were bending in the keen 
winds of the north. 

Wild men were there, wild beasts. The shores were 
beaten by storms. 

Mystery was there, an unknown destiny for those who 
would make that land their home. 


88 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


But freedom was there; men there might own them- 
selves, might hope, and trust, and live, and seek one an- 
other’s welfare beyond the world of prisons and chains. 

Land ! ” The sound was glorious. Land where men 
could be free! Should they find rest here, or should they 
seek to go farther? 

It is a common story now that Captain Jones had 
been bribed by the foreign traders with the Dutch colony 
on the Hudson to betray and deceive the Pilgrims, and to 
land them on the shores of Cape Cod. This may have been 
so, but it is not proved. We like to think that Captain 
Jones was an honest man. 

The breaking of the storm revealed a fine harbor and 
shores covered with rugged oaks, sweet woods, and ever- 
greens. The country seemed to invite the exiles to stop 
here, and the sea to forbid them to go farther. 

The late fall storms off the coast were terrible, and Kob- 
ert Coppin, our pilot,” spoke favorably of the land, which 
he had seen under different skies and in milder seasons. 
The influence of the pilot must have been very great at 
this time. 

So the 11th of November found the Pilgrim company 
in Provincetown (Malabar or Malebar) Bay. 

Little Ellen More began to talk of the green mat and the 
copper chain again. 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE COMPACT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 

The shores were goodly to behold. The land was much 
as now, except that the giant trees are now gone. There were 
green junipers there, mingled with sassafras. The ground 
was carpeted with prince’s pine. The witch-hazels, which 
bloom in the fall, were there, and probably the red berries 
of the checkerberry among the creeping Jenny. However 
the latter may have been, wild fowl filled the coves, and 
fish sported in the shallow waters. 

Whales were there in the deep waters. Robert Cop- 
pin, who was an experienced fisherman, was much excited 
when he saw what a harvest of the sea was there. Our 
master and his mate,” says a relation, ‘^professed that we 
might have made £3,000 or £4,000 worth of all.” 

We found great mussels,” says the relation, ^Wery fat 
and full of sea pearls, but the company could not eat them 
without being made sick. They caused even the sailors to 
cast them up.” 

The water was very shallow near the shore, so that those 
who landed had to wade, and in freezing weather. 

Were they to land here and to seek for a place of settle- 

89 


90 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


ment, or to put out to sea again? They decided to give up 
for the present the Hudson River plan, and to look for a 
place of home making here. 

But they must have a government here. What should 
it be? 

If all were to obey it, it must be founded on the votes 
of the majority. The will of the majority must be the 
new king in this empty land. But they must have officers 
to execute this will. Who should they be? What should 
they be called? They must have a governor and council. 

How should the will of a majority of the people be 
made known? By an election. 

The new state must have a constitution or agreement. 
The agreement must be one that a majority of the people 
would sign. It must be a compact, such as is the Constitu- 
tion of the United States to-day, which the people pledge 
themselves to support before they can vote. 

There is an old chest to be seen pictured in Pilgrim Hall 
in Plymouth, on which a compact was probably written, and 
studied, and signed. The original chest is in the keeping of 
the Connecticut Historical Society. This compact was the 
first constitution of a republic in the Hew World, and all of 
the republics of the Western world have followed its princi- 
ciple of self-government. The Declaration of Independ- 
ence as a seed was in it. The Constitution of the United 
States as a beginning was in it. The fall of the Bastile and 
the French Constitution in a prophetic sense were in it. 


THE COMPACT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


91 


That simple paper on Elder Brewster^s chest, if the legend 
of the chest may be trusted,* was to bring a new order of 
government into the world. Destiny was to say to its 
spindles, Thus forever go on! ” 

What a day that was, the 21st of I^ovemher, 'N. S. 
It should be celebrated everywhere, in all lands where free- 
dom by self-government is now, and as long as freedom 
through self-government shall last. 

See Elder Brewster as he considers that paper with the 
rest. Did he dream of what he was doing? There were 
forty-one adult men on board; would they all sign it, or 
would some of them object to signing it? 

The leaders must read it to all, then they must question 
all, and every one who agreed to sign this paper would give 
to the Pilgrim Constitution his vote. 

One by one, as he listened to the reading said, I will 
sign it.” Eorty-one said, I will sign it.” The charter of 
agreement was unanimously adopted. The first republic 
of America was founded in the cabin of the Mayflower, amid 
lowering skies and foaming seas. 

What was the compact? Let the young reader not skip 
it, but read it. Every word is gold: 

In the name of GOD^ Amen. We, whose names are 
underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread Sovereign 

* The proof that the lid of the chest was used for the purpose is want- 
ing, but such seems to have been the tradition. 


92 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Lord King James ; hy the grace of GOD, of Great 
Dritain, France, and Ireland King / Defender of the 
Jb'a%th y (&Cm 

Having undertaken for the glory of GOD, and ad- 
vancement of the Christian faith, and honour of our King 
and count/ry, a Voyage [Expedition] to plant the first Colony 
in the northern parts of Virginia ; [wel do, hy these pres- 
ents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of GOD and 
one of another, covenant and combine ourselves together into 
a Civil Body Politic, for our better ordering and preserva- 
tion / and furtherance of the ends aforesaid : and, by 
virtue hereof, to enact, constitute, a/nd frame such just and 
equal laws, ordinances, a/its, constitutions, Ofiices,from time 
to time, as shaU be thought most meet and convenient for the 
general good of the Colony ; unto which, we promise all due 
submission and obedience. 

In witness whereof, we have hereunder subscribed our 
numes. Cape Cod, 11th of November, in the year of the 
reign of our Sovereign Lord King JAMES, of England, 
France and Ireland 18 ; and of Scotland 51 Anno Dom- 
ini 1620. 

Would you like to see how some of these signatures 
looked? — signatures of more value to mankind than those 
of the emperors of Home in their purple, or of monarchs of 
the middle ages in their pomp and power, signatures whose 
importance did not cease with the death of the signers, hut 
remained a force unto this day in the advance of humanity. 


THE COMPACT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


93 



'iivK 

)<c-; 






^^iifin ^Yc^a 



ailcy M o-rA-^ S • 




/L\ 


HANDWRITING OF THE PILGRIMS. 


Like John Hancock’s signature to the Declaration of 
Independence, these names are* penned in a bold, strong 
hand. By it each man became a king in the will of all the 
rest and his own. That was a glorious day for America. 
They elected John Carver governor. In that election the 
folkmote, or town meeting, was begun, and the folkmote 
was the pattern of the future republic. 

A grand scene followed that poets should sing, musicians 
set to the music of the waves, and painters spread upon 
canvas. 

After sixty-three days at sea they were now to 
land. 

They must wade a bow’s length ” or more in the cold. 


94 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


shallow waters. So in the ship’s boat the leaders came to 
the shore. 

The pines welcomed them, the birch, the holly, the ash, 
the mossy oaks, the carpet of evergreen. Faith welcomed 
them in the air unseen. 

They fell upon their knees. That was the first public 
thanksgiving in New England — it was on Compact Day. 
They faced the future by faith. 

The people of Provincetown have been considering the 
celebration of this day. They should do so, and call to 
it the nation’s noblest men. The whole country should 
join with them in the memory of an event that must ever 
rank foremost among the heroic and prophetic deeds of the 
world. 

They at first found no human being in the open woods — 
no print on the sand, no abandoned homes or cabins, no 
tombs. The place was but one of the vast solitudes of the 
sea. The inhabitants of the land had nearly all been 
swept away by a plague a few years before. 

On Monday, 13th of November, O. S., they unshipped 
their shallop and drew her to the land for the ship’s car- 
penter to repair. It took many days to make the boat sea- 
worthy. In the meantime they would explore the coast 
in a smaller boat, and would go inland to see if any people 
could be found. 

As they returned at night from the first landing they 
brought pine or juniper boughs to burn on board the ship. 


THE COMPACT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


95 


These boughs made a bright fire and filled the room with a 
resinous odor as they were burned. 

How cheerful must have been the fire in the cabin of 
the Mayfiower on that lonely night amid the rolling seas 
and the tenantless woods! 

Kobert Coppin/’ said Ellen More, “ you are to go out 
with the men and explore. Will you not tell us what you 
discover, on the evening after you return from exploring? 
The boys and girls will all want to hear. They will not 
let us go. Bring more juniper, and tell us about all that 
you shall see in the woods, by the green boughs as they 
burn.^’ 

That I will, my darling girl — that Kobert Coppin 

will.’^ 

And you will have eyes for us? ” 

Yes, yes, Robert Coppin will be eyes for you.” 

^^And ears?” 

Yes, yes, and ears, Ellen More, Ellen More. I love 
the young folks on the Mayflower; my heart beats with 
theirs, and it will be a dark day to me when I leave them.” 

May be that you will come back to us some day, Kob- 
ert Coppin.” 

Ah, if you were my little girl I would come back to 
you, but you have better friends than I can ever be to you, 
and it is my lot to roam the sea.” He added, But I shall 
never forget this voyage.” 

^^The storms?” asked Ellen. 


96 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


“ Ah, no, not the storms, but the hearts in the storms. 
There have been hearts in the storms.’’ 

Your heart has been in the storms,” said Ellen. 

Pilot Coppin, Pilot Coppin, it will all be well if you only 
lead us where we are to go. I would love to suffer if it 
would make happy such a heart as yours.” 

“ Ellen More, Ellen More, I would die for such a one as 
you, but the world will pass us both by. What is a pilot? 
It may be for those who do their duty there is some better 
Avorld than this. But the sailor must do his duty, and be 
forgotten. He is one wave of the ocean that comes up and 
sinks down again.” 

But the ocean must have that one wave, Kobert Cop- 
pin.” 

Thou hast well said, my girl. It will make my heart 
beat faster to think each day when I am on land that I will 
return to tell my adventures to the boys and girls of the 
Mayflower and to you, Ellen More, who will ever have a 
warm place in my lonely heart.” 


CHAPTEE XII. 


THE FIRST DISCOVERY. 

The return of Pilot Coppin after the men had made 
their first expedition inland was hailed by all who had re- 
mained on board as a matter of intense interest. He came 
to tell a tale by the not unlikely juniper fire. He doubtless 
brought them Indian corn, parched acorns, and nuts, for 
such he had found in abundance, and it was his habit to 
share what most pleased him with others. 

It is night on the Mayfiower, a calm night now, under 
the moon and stars. The fire burns brightly and the lamps 
low. The men who have been on land, except Coppin, go 
to their bunks, weary with their hard journey. 

Pilot Coppin sits down in the cabin among the women 
and the boys and girls. John Billington makes trouble in 
getting into a place to hear the tale of the first adventure. 
He was a boy who, we may fancy, was always making 
trouble by his restlessness. He had his father’s tempera- 
ment, a man who, although he discovered the Billington 
Sea, was hanged in 1630; so even the good Pilgrims had 
a bad man among them, whom their example failed to re- 
strain. 


97 


98 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


Hear ye, hear ye all ! ” began Pilot Coppin, using an 
ancient form of arresting attention, and I will tell you the 
tale of our first adventures in the woods. 

The woods — you should see them ! They stand open 
like arcades; one could ride through them. They must be 
beautiful in summer. The blue jays, the wonder birds, 
that always come peeking about, are there now, with their 
feather caps on that bob up and down. There are ospreys’ 
nests in the dead trees and crows’ nests in the pines. There 
are withered flowers and red berries everywhere. 

“ Hear ye, hear ye all! What day is this? — the 17th of 
November. The first thing we saw as we went into the 
woods was, marching in single file, six Indians with a dog, 
coming in the direction that we were traveling.” 

Indians ! ” cried the boys. The pilot bade them be 
silent. 

You should have seen how surprised they were when 
they saw us. They gave a cautious, mysterious whistle to 
the dog, and turned on their heels, as though they had seen 
the Evil One himself, and their dark heels flew like drum- 
sticks in a battle. How they did run! They vanished. 
What do you suppose their thoughts could have been 
on seeing our faces, our armor, and our guns? The dog 
did not stop to defend them; he caught their fear, and 
made ofi with them without stopping so much as to turn to 
bark. 

We hurried on after them, calling out, ^ Ho, here, ho! ’ 


THE FIRST DISCOVERY. 


99 


Our voices must have caused them greater terror than be- 
fore. 

“We next saw them on top of a hill, looking down to 
watch the bushes move as we pressed on our way. 

“We called, ‘Ho, here, ho!’ 

“ The friendly tone of our voices seemed to have 
changed their minds and won their confidence, for they now 
waited for us. 

“We made signs to them that we wanted food and 
shelter. They understood us. They gathered sticks for us 
and made a fire, and gave us wherewith to eat. So we 
found them at last friendly, and passed the night among 
them, keeping a guard. 

“ In the morning we arose and followed the Indians to 
a runlet or little stream, and thence into a strange, gloomy 
wood where there was some underbrush that, tore our armor. 
We showed the Indians that we wanted to find a spring of 
fresh water. We would fain eat our biscuit and cheese with 
the live water that flowed out of the earth. So we pushed 
on after the wandering savages. 

“We came at last to a valley [Truro] full of wood-gale 
and long grass, and there we saw a deer at a spring, which 
had gone there for water. 

“We hurried to the spring to drink after the deer. Oh, 
how clear the water ran! How refreshing it looked! We 
dropped down to drink. We never tasted better water than 
that. Ho ale ever was so good. It was the first time that 


100 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


our men drank water from the natural spring in the new 
land. They said that they must settle near a spring. 

‘‘We soon found other ponds [Pond Village in Truro] 
and came to great cornfields. Springs and cornfields, gale- 
fiends [bayberry] for tallow. Think of that! ” 

“And the Indians were friendly,” said Ellen More, 
possibly thinking of the copper chain. 

“ I would have liked to have been there,” said John 
Billington. 

“ You would not have left the Indians over friendly,” 
said Pilot Coppin, “ if you were up to such antics there as 
you are here.” 

'The pilot continued: “We found a path. Then we 
came to a wonder. The path led to heaps of sand. We un- 
covered one of these heaps on which was a mat. We 
found there a mortar and a bow and arrows. The place 
was a grave. We had come upon an Indian graveyard. 

“ Then we went on over stubble fields where had been 
corn. Around it were great fields full of nuts, and woods 
still green with the matted leaves of strawberry vines. 

“ Listen ! The path led to another wonder — to a cellar 
of corn, a little barn of corn, as it were, in the earth. An 
abandoned Indian cabin was near. 

“We dug open the cellar, which was a covering of sand, 
and found thirty-six ears of corn. It was in a basket. 

“ ‘ The corn is a treasure,’ said Master Bradford, ‘ but it 
is not ours.’ 


THE FIRST DISCOVERY. 


101 


shall we do with it?^ asked Master Hop- 
kins. 

‘ Take it for onr necessities/ said Standish, ‘ and pay 
for it if the owners should ever demand it.’ 

“ The ears of corn were surrounded with shelled corn. 
We found a kettle there. We filled the kettle with shelled 
corn and bore it away on a staff. We covered up the 
corn bin, and agreed to tell the owners, should we ever find 
them, that we took the corn from necessity, and would pay 
them for it. 

We passed the night under the cover of a great fire. 
In the morning we went out again to explore, and we found 
another curious thing indeed. What was it? 

Listen ! The queer thing that we found was a living 
tree bowed over almost like a hoop, so that the top touched 
the ground. 

^ What should ever make a tree grow like that? ’ asked 
Master Hopkins, in great wonder. 

‘ Come here,’ said one of the men. ^ See here these 
acorns strewed around the bended top of the tree; fat ones; 
if I could take any more things back to the ship, I would 
gather them up.’ 

“ ^ Don’t you see,’ said Stephen Hopkins, ‘ that tree is 
an Indian snare? ’ 

‘ How does it work? ’ asked one. 

^ If you get too near it, you will find how it works. Let 
us away. Master Bradford,’ he cried, ‘come on.’ 


102 the pilot of the MAYFLOWER. 

Master Bradford was far behind us. We went on, 
wondering what next we would find. 

Master Bradford followed at a distance. Wlien be came 
to the place of the bent tree and the acorns on the ground, 
he, too, was puzzled, and stopped to see what it meant. 

“ He went about the place here and there, when all at 
once we heard him cry out in a voice of great terror; 
here, ho!’ 

^‘We looked around, and what do you think we saw? 
The tree had straightened up, and there was Master William 
Bradford tripped up and hanging by the leg. 

‘ Ho, here, ho ! ’ he cried again. 

‘ The tree has got him,’ said one of us. 

“ ‘ He is caught in the Indian snare,’ said Stephen Hop- 
kins. ^ Hurry back, and cut the cord. His leg may be 
broken. Hurry! ’ 

‘^We hurried back to the place. 

^^^What has happened?’ asked the men. 

“ ‘ The tree ! the tree ! the tree ! ’ he exclaimed. ^ The 
tree has caught me! ’ 

^ But trees do not have such cunning,’ said I. ‘ Look 
here; his foot is noosed by an Indian rope.’ 

“ ‘ Cut the cord,’ said Hopkins. ^ The snare was set for 
a deer.’ 

^‘We cut the rope, which was curiously made. The 
snare was fashioned by making a noose of the rope and 
spreading it upon the ground under the leaves among the 


THE FIRST DISCOVERY. 


103 


acorns. The tree was bent down and attached to a cross 
bar which would slip out of some notches when it was pulled 
aside, and cause the top to fly up, and the noose was tied 
to the top of the tree. Deer or other animals which should 
become entangled in the noose would cause the cross bar to 
fly out of the notches, and would be jerked up into the air. 
The Indian who set such snares visited them daily, or from 
time to time. 

The trapper would find the animal that had been 
caught alive, but sometimes with broken or dislocated limbs. 
A small deer would be suspended in the air. 

William Bradford did not stop to gather any acorns in 
that place, fat and tempting though they looked. He made 
the best of his time to get away, and he cast his eyes about 
him after that experience. 

We traveled toward the place that lay nearest to the 
ship. We heard whirring wings as we came. They were 
partridges. There were great flocks of geese and ducks in 
the coves. We met with a buck that had not been en- 
trapped in a snare like William Bradford. 

The country must be a beautiful one in its season, and 
a goodly one to live in, except in winter, and even then it 
would be goodly if one had shelter, which we have not now, 
but will have if we remain here. 

Be happy, then. If you find a place here you will be 

in a land of living springs, full of health, of woods full of 

game, such as an English lord might covet, and of friendly 
8 


104 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


Indians, to whom you have only to give your hearts to find 
good hearts in return.’^ 

“ And the copper chain ! ” added Ellen More. 

Hear ye all. I have come back like the spies in the 
days of the wandering Hebrew tribes, and Robert Coppin 
has no evil report to bring of the land. It is a land of 
grapes as well as of other goodly things, and no giants are 
there; no, no giants are there, notwithstanding the snare 
into which fell our good friend William Bradford! ” 

The Pilgrim family may have kindled the juniper fire 
again, and parched com as they continued to talk over the 
events of that expedition. The women^s hearts were 
cheered. The children's eyes glowed. 

How I wish I could get to the shore ! ” said sprightly 
John Billington. 

There are others who have the same wish for you,’’ said 
one of the women, tartly. 

“ I would have given the Indians something if I had 
been there,” said Ellen More, her heart always beating with 
generous impulses. 

Hot the copper chain,” said Pilot Coppin. 

Ho, that would have been too soon. That is for the 
great chief. I wish that he would come to visit us here. 
Pilot Coppin, could you not find him and bring him to us? 
Tell him that I have a copper chain for him; I would like to 
put it on him with my own hands.” 

“ Ho, my girl; a man by the name of Hunt, a character- 









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The Mayflower in Plymouth harbor. 



THE FIRST DISCOVERY. 


105 


less trader, enticed some Indians on board bis ship by prom- 
ises or presents, and be sailed away with them, perhaps 
thinking to sell them for slaves, and the Indians must re- 
member bis treachery, and they would be shy of ever going 
on shipboard again. 

This,” he added, ^^is our first discovery. We are go- 
ing to make another expedition, and when we return I will 
tell you another story, if I find anything to tell, and you 
may be sure that we will see some strange sights. 

‘^I have brought some corn and acorns and red berries 
for the sick on board. And here are some flowers from 
trees that bloom in the fall. Ellen More, you may take the 
things to them, and speak a cheering word for- me. Tell 
them Robert Coppin remembered them.” 

The little girl went to the bunks where lay the sick, with 
the witch-hazel blossoms, perhaps, and the presents from the 
land. Then the sea grew silent and the lights went out, and 
many dreamed of the new land of which the pilot had told 
them. 

Little Ellen More bid Pilot Coppin good-night, saying: 

“Do you think we shall ever see the great chief sitting on 
the green mat, and wearing the copper chain? ” 

“ That is a fairy dream, my girl, but dream on, dream 
on; many fair dreams in life become things and prove 
true. We can not tell what awaits us.” 

A solitary light hung in the cabin. What would be the 
next story that the pilot would have to tell? 


CHAPTER XIII. 


PILOT COPPIn’s second STOEY, 

The shallop was being repaired on the shore. 

“ Let us set off on an adventure again,” said Captain 
J ones, and Coppin, who knows more about these parts than 
I do, he shall go with us.” 

He addressed Masters Carver and Bradford, the PilgHm 
leaders. 

So the women and the boys and the girls of the May- 
flower saw another expedition set forth from the havened 
ship on the longboat, and they all waited impatiently for 
their pilot to return again and tell under the lonely cabin 
light the wonders that he saw. 

Their interest in these tales of wood lore was most 
intense. The Pilgrims were already inclined to settle here, 
and the women must have favored the plan as they gazed 
out toward the billowy sea. Every incident that the pilot 
related seemed possibly associated with their future home. 

He came back, and the men brought evergreens for the 
women and berries for the sick, and the pilot had Indian 
baskets which he gave to his favorites, among whom we may 
picture little Ellen More. 


PILOT COPPIN’S SECOND STORY. 


107 


“ Hear ye again ! ” lie said, as tlie odor of tlie juniper 
filled tlie cabin, and the wind had a far-away sound. Hear 
ye again! ’’ 

He did not lack for ears or still feet. Even John Bil- 
lington was quiet for an hour. He began: 

“ It was a rough day when we set forth, as you know 
(Monday, November 27th). There were winds and cross 
winds, and we had to row near the shore, and when we came 
to land to wade in water above our knees. 

‘^It blowed and snowed all the blind day, and then it 
froze. Ah-a-me, some of the people that went out will 
never forget that day, I mind; it made me, an old sailor, 
shrivel up; I can seem to feel the pitiless wind now. 

We came to a place which we called Cold Harbor [the 
Pamet River]. We landed, and marched through the gtorm 
up hill and down among the frozen trees that creaked as- 
they rocked in the keen winds. Ah-a-me, ah-a-me I that was- 
our third day out, and they were all dreadful days. 

Then we concluded to go back to the place where we* 
had found corn, and which we well called Cornhill. 

Here we found sand heap after sand heap, little gran- 
aries or bams, or green cellars in the earth. As we laid 
them open the yellow corn appeared. We were obliged to 
break open the ground with our cutlasses, it was frozen so 
hard; but, rejoice everybody, we secured as much as ten 
bushels of com.” 

But whom did you pay for it? ” asked Ellen More. 


108 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


There was no one there to pay.” 

“ But some one worked hard to raise it; what is he 
to do?” 

It was probably an Indian woman,” said the pilot. 

But it was as hard for her to work in the fields as 
for a man. What will she think when she comes back? ” 
said Ellen. 

She will think that the needy have been to her sand 
barn,” said the pilot. 

“But why did you not leave something for her there? 
Some money, or some bowls, or some clothes? ” asked Ellen. 

“ Bless your heart, my child, we hadn’t^ anything to 
leave.” 

“ You will have something next time, won’t you? ” 

“ Well, marry, marry, yes, that I will, beshrew me if I 
don’t. I pity the Indian woman, too, when she comes back 
and finds her corn gone. We ought to have left some 
treasures for her in the baskets in the cellar. That would 
have shown her that we did n6t intend to steal, and it would 
have made her friendly.” 

“ Does the winter here last long? ” asked the girl. 

“Yes; four months.” 

“Four months. How suppose the woman who raised 
the corn has children, and that she comes wandering away 
back from somewhere for food for her children, and finds 
the corn gone, and nothing in her baskets to buy any? ” 

“How do not worry any more about that, my little 


PILOT COFFIN’S SECOND STORY. 


109 


heart. That same question is troubling Elder Brewster, as 
I can see. We will carry presents when we go again, to 
show the Indians that we mean to treat them honestly and 
to make them friendly/’ He continued his narrative: 

We sent back to the ship those who were chilled and 
weak, and then eighteen of us set forth on new adven- 
tures. 

On the last day of November we found beaten paths, 
and we resolved to follow them, which we did for five or six 
miles. They led us to an open field. In the middle of it 
was a mound, and a mat lay upon it. We knew that it was 
a grain bin or a grave. 

We tore up the mat. 

Under it was another mat. 

Under that was a board. 

On the board were painted the prongs of a crown. 

Here was the grave of some white wanderer. Who 
could have died in this lonely place? 

Then we found bowls, and trays, and dishes. I have 
brought back one of the dishes. Here it is. Where was it 
made? ” 

The people passed it round and turned it over. 

" In France,” said one of the servants, who had been on 
the European continent. 

We found there a bundle. It was something tied up 
in a blouse. It contained the bones of a man. On the head 
was yellow hair. Ho Indians have yellow hair. 


110 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


We discovered something yet more mysterious. Hear 
ye all ! 

It was a little bundle. 

^^In it were the bones of a child. The little body was 
bound about with beads, white beads — here they are! 

Some of the children began to shed tears at the sight of 
the beads. 

The body was that of a Frenchman,^’ said one. 

The little child was his, perhaps,’’ said another. 

But these are Indian beads — wampum.” 

“ The Indians buried the child,” said Ellen More. It 
may have been a little girl. I love the Indians for giving 
her beads — she could never reward them.” 

“ That is so, Ellen; I thought of that. 

We left the grave, and near by we found houses made 
of poles bent together at the top and covered with mats. In 
them were wooden bowls, trays, and dishes. We thought 
that some English traders had encamped there, or had 
traded off these things with the Indians for corn. There 
were eagles’ claws there, hartshorn, parched acorns, and 
bundles of flags with which to make matting.” Pilot Cop- 
pin had brought back some of these things. How strange it 
all seemed. 

The next morning Master Carver, who acted as the Pil- 
grim leader, called the pilot. 

Master Coppin, can we see you in the cabin ? ” 

Aye, aye, at your service, sir.” 


PILOT COPPIN’S SECOND STORY. 


Ill 


The pilot found the leaders of the Pilgrims in consulta- 
tion. Should they attempt to settle here, or go out to sea 
again? Those who desired to settle here made these argu- 
ments, which we copy in part: 

Pirst. — There was a convenient harbor for boats, though 
not for ships. 

Secondly. — Good corn ground ready to their hands, as 
they saw by experience in the goodly corn it yielded, which 
would again agree with the ground, and be natural seed for 
the same. 

Thirdly. — Cape Cod was like[ly] to be a place of good 
fishing; for they saw daily great whales, of the best kind for 
oil and bone, come close aboard their ship, and, in fair 
weather, swim and play about it. There was one whale,’^ 
said they, when the sun shone warm, which came and lay 
above water, as if it had been dead, for a good while to- 
gether, within half a musket shot of the ship. At which, 
two were prepared to shoot, to see whether it would stir or 
no. He that gave fire first, his musket flew in pieces, both 
stock and barrel; yet, thanks be to God, neither he nor any 
one else was hurt with it, though many were there about. 
But when the whale saw its time, it gave a snufi, and away!’^ 

Fourthly. — The place was likely to be healthful, secure, 
and defensible. 

But the last and especial reason was. That now the heart 
of winter and unseasonable weather were come upon them, 
so that they could not go upon coasting [surveying] and dis- 


112 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


coverj without danger of losing men and boat; upon which 
would follow the overthrow of all, especially considering 
what variable winds and sudden storms do there arise.’’ 
Also cold and wet lodging had so tainted the people (for 
scarce any of them were free from vehement coughs) as if 
they should continue long in that estate it would endanger 
the lives of many, and breed diseases and infections among 
them.” Again, they had yet some beer, butter, flesh, and 
other victuals, which would quickly be all gone; and then 
they should have nothing to comfort them in the great labor- 
and toil they were like [ly ] to undergo at the flrst. 

Others again urged greatly going to Anguum or An- 
goum [Agawam, now Ipswich], a place twenty leagues ofl 
to the northwards, which they had heard to be an excellent 
harbour for ships, [with] better ground and better fishing. 

“ Secondly. — For anything they knew, there might be, 
hard by them, a far better seat; and it should be a great 
hindrance to seat [settle] where we should remove again.” 

We take these arguments in part from the ^Narration 
of the Pilgrims. Other reasons were set forth against set- 
tling where they were. 

Robert Coppin,” said the leader of the council, you 
have been in these parts before, and we have heard you say 
that when you were here you came to a harbor beyond this, 
large, and opening into a fine land ! ” 

^Wes, your honor! ” 

^^How far was that harbor from this? ” 


PILOT COPPIN’S SECOND STORY. 


113 


Some twenty-four miles, or tlie like of that, your 
Honor.” 

What is it called? ” 

“ We called it Thievish Harbor, sir.” 

‘‘ That name has an evil sound, pilot; it bodes no good. 
Why did you call it that? ” 

“ One of the Indians stole our harpoon while we 
were there. It is a goodly harbor, sir, and the country 
around it is fertile, a place of fine fishing, grand woods, 
and fields. It is called Patuxit by the natives. I was a 
sailor on the whaler Scotsman from Glasgow when I first 
saw it.” 

Pilot, what would you advise us to do? ” 

To make another expedition, sir; to see that harbor be- 
fore you decide where you will settle.” 

They studied the maps and charts of the coast which 
they had brought. 

Shall we follow our pilot^s advice? ” said one. 

The men voted to make an expedition to the harbor that 
the pilot had described, and so it was owing to Kobert Cop- 
pin, “our pilot,” that Plymouth and not Provincetown be- 
came the landing place of the Pilgrims. This counsel of 
the pilot in the cabin of the Mayfiower is a point of history 
worthy of note in the celebration of the deeds of the Hew 
England pioneers. But Plymouth Harbor was not Thievish 
Harbor, as he dreamed. Still it was his vision of a better 
harbor that led to decisive events. 


11^ THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 

They had decided to make a third expedition, and the 
thought of it filled their minds with new plans. 

“We must now consult with Coppin,” said one, “ and we 
must prepare ” 

Boom! What was that? 

The ship reeled. A scent of powder filled the cabin. 
Explosion followed explosion. 

All started up. 

“ What was that? ” asked all. 

The women trembled. Jasper More, who was ill, was 
thrown into convulsions. 

A man came leading out a boy who was crying. 

“ Francis Billington, what have you been doing? ’’ cried 
Standish in a severe voice. “ What caused that explosion? 

“ Daddy’s gun.” 

“ How, you young rascal, how? ” 

“ I took it down, and it went off.” 

“ But there was more than one explosion, you little 
savage! ” 

“ Squibs, sir.” 

“ Who made the squibs? ” 

“I, sir.” 

“ What for?” 

“ Because father makes ’em, sir.” 

“ But there is a keg of powder near his bunk.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“Where is that now?” 


PILOT COPPIN’S SECOND STORY. 


115 


is there, sir.’’ 

^‘Run! ” cried several voices. 

The women screamed. 

The boldest men ran to the Billington bunk. 

The musket was there, the exploded squibs, with weap- 
ons and pieces of iron. But the keg, or rather half a keg, of 
powder stood there harmless. Had a single spark reached it 
the history of the Mayflower and of the Pilgrim company 
would probably then and there have come to an end. 


CHAPTEE XIY. 


KIDNAPED INDIANS. OUK PILOT.’’ 

The Billingtons, we are led to suppose, were a rather 
unquiet family, though perhaps to this restlessness may be 
due the early discovery of the so-called Billington Sea. 
John Billington, Sr., came to a terrible end, as we have said, 
and whether his wife’s tongue was as sharp as has been rep- 
resented we do not know, but one of her boys, as we have 
seen, came near blowing up the Mayflower in his strange 
experiments with his father’s powder, and another John 
Billington threw the colony into great excitement in the 
first summer after the landing, as we shall relate in our nar- 
rative. 

^^Earee show,” said John Bilington one day, with the 
shores in sight. Earee show ! ” 

“ And what do you mean by that? ” asked Pilot Coppin. 
Wouldn’t it be a jolly thing to go hunting for In- 
dians, and take them back to England and show them for a 
wonder? Then one could bring them back as pilots, and dis- 
cover gold mines and the places where the old arrow makers 
hid their treasures. Earee show! ” 

Earee show!” cried Erancis Billington, whose fancy 


KIDNAPED INDIANS.— “OUR PILOT.’ 


117 


was awakened by the suggestion of Indians on exhibition in 
London. 

‘‘ That would not happen/’ said Pilot Coppin; “ if you 
were to go hunting Indians you would not capture them, 
they would capture you! ^Raree show! Raree show!’ 
They would put you up on exhibition in the owl swamp, 
and the owls would call out ^Whoo? whoo?’ That would 
make a ^ raree show ’ for the ravens to caw at, and the woods 
are black with crows! ” 

My folks are always agitating something or other,” 
said Mistress Billington. What my boys will come to 
goes beyond my ken. If they do not capture Indians, the 
Indians will be likely to capture them. John’s head is 
always in the wrong place, and the hands of Francis are 
usually found in the same quarter.” 

Shall we see Tusquantum should we land here? ” asked 
Ellen More. You told us how he was kidnaped and car- 
ried away.” 

It is not unlikely that we may find him.” 

He could talk for us with the other Indians,” said 
Ellen More. ^^He understands English.” 

The trumpets of the winds are sounding again,” said 
Wrastle Brewster. Pilot Coppin, the ship is at anchor, 
and you have nothing to do. Tell us other stories of the 
Indians of whom you have heard — stories of adventures in 
these parts, told by returned sailors on the English docks.” 

Tell us more stories about kidnaped Indians,” said 


118 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


young John Billington, for my mind already goes roaming 
through the forests, and I will one day meet with adventures 
there.'’ 

And I," said his brother Francis. 

You have already had adventures enough to satisfy a 
fleet," said Mistress Billington. Where would we have 
been had a spark touched that keg of powder? And fire all 
around that keg, and squibs bursting! Oh, it drives me 
wild when I think of it! " 

“ Kidnaping," said Pilot Coppin, is an evil business. 
When Pinzon, one of Columbus's captains, stole four In- 
dians to sell them for slaves, Columbus commanded that 
they be set free, and in that he showed his nobility of charac- 
ter. Kidnapers are usually kidnaped in some form in the 
end, for the law of justice must be fulfilled, and to every 
man be meted the measure wherewith he metes." 

He continued: “John Yerazzini, the Florentine in the 
service of Francis I, had some strange experiences among 
the savages, we are told. Sailing along the Kew England 
coast in 1524, nearly a hundred years ago, he landed some 
twenty men, who went into the interior. When the In- 
dians beheld the white men in armor they took to their 
heels, probably thinking that they were gods or monsters. 

“But there was one old woman who could not hobble 
away. Old as she was, she carried a child on her back, 
in the Indian way, and there was a young woman with her, 
about eighteen years of age, who had three children on her 


KIDNAPED INDIANS.— “ OUR PILOT.’ 


119 


back. The old woman was filled with the greatest terror 
when she saw the white men coming, and the young woman, 
burdened with the children, was greatly terrified. The 
braves ran; they had neither old age nor children on their 
backs to hinder them. 

“ There was a meadow of bright grass near. The old 
woman suddenly sank down in the grass, and lay perfectly 
still. The young woman did the same, and the grass waved 
like a sea, and had not these poor people been seen to disap- 
pear there, the meadows would only have seemed to be in- 
habited by the Indian birds, which they call conquiddles. 

But the sailors dashed into the grass after them. 

“ When the old woman saw that she was discovered, she 
set up a wild howling, and the children followed her exam- 
ple. The young woman sprang up, and it was a quick wit 
she had. 

She pointed to the way the men had gone, and cried 
out in Indian : ^ Gone ! gone ! there ! there ! go ! go ! ’ 

“ I do not blame her for sending these strange men after 
her people, since they had deserted her with her babies. 

They attempted to seize and carry her away, but she 
kept up such a noise as made them willing to let her go. 
They kidnaped one of her children and took it away. 
Yerrazzini, on another voyage, was himself captured by In- 
dians, and it is said that he was eaten by them.’^ 

He continued : “ Some nine years ago Captain Edward 

Harlow was sent out to discover the island of Cape Cod. 

9 


120 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER, 


He sailed past this place, and found that Cape Cod was not 
an island at all, but a part of the mainland. He enticed 
three Indians whom he met on Montregon Island to come 
on board his ship. One of these Indians was called Pechmo. 

“ When Pechmo found that the English intended to 
make him a captive he leaped overboard and escaped. 

The ship’s boat hung over the stern. One day Captain 
Harlow was astonished to find that the other two savages 
were gone, and that the boat had disappeared. Pechmo 
had returned under the cover of the night or a storm, cut the 
boat from under the stern, and helped his comrades to 
escape. 

‘ We must rescue the boat,’ said Harlow. 

He cast his eyes on the shore. 

^ There it is,’ said he. ‘ Bring it back ! ’ 

They set out in some light craft to bring it back. 
When the sailors came to where the boat lay they found it 
filled with sand. 

^ We must clean it out,’ said the mate. 

They were about to do so when a shower of arrows fell 
among them. The boat, filled with sand, had been moored 
under the cover of bushes or trees, or some safe protection. 
The men were glad to get safely back again. 

E’ow, many such things had happened on the coast, 
and the Indians must have come to believe that the traders 
are thieves.” 

Ellen! ” 


KIDNAPED INDIANS.— ‘‘OUR PILOT.’ 


121 


It was tlie voice of Mistress Carver. 

Jasper is going to leave us. The voyage has been too 
hard for your little brother. He is dying.” 

The Mores were four orphan children. They had been 
taken into the families of the Pilgrims in Holland: Ellen 
into the family of Edward Winslow, Jasper More into that 
of John Carver, and the others into that of Elder William 
Brewster. It seems strange that these Pilgrim families 
should have brought the orphans with them. Only one of 
these children lived to grow up, and he changed his name to 
Mann. 

Ellen More followed Mistress Carver to the bunk where 
her brother was lying, faded and white. 

He looked up to Ellen. 

The wind was whistling in the rigging, and the boy must 
have known that his grave would soon be made in the sea. 

I pity you, brother,” said Ellen More. What can I 

do?” 

^^Is the pilot on board?” 

The girl turned swiftly away. 

Pilot Coppin, come. I can do nothing. Oh, do come! 
Jasper is going away. What can you do? — do something — 
quick! ” 

The pilot came and stood above the dying boy. 

Pilot? ” 

Well, my boy? ” 

You have been good to Ellen.” 


122 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


He lay very still. The broad form of Elder Brewster 
bent above the four little orphans. 

Pilot/’ whispered the boy, I am going to father and 
mother now. It would make me happy to kiss your hand.” 

The pilot put his hard hand to the white lips, but the 
power to move those little lips was forever gone. 

The little form lay still and white. 

They wrapped it up. The pilot took it into his arms 
and went away and left it by itself, and when he came back 
his arms were empty, but he bent down and kissed Ellen 
More. 

Did he take it with him that day as he went on board 
the shallop? It was hard weather that day, and the ocean 
would make no account that another little form had been 
added to its unnumbered graves. 

When Ellen asked about her brother’s remains she was 
told that they had been taken away by our pilot. 

What our Pilot does is well,” said Elder Brewster. 

Our Pilot ” — she understood in part all the good man 
would imply. Yes, heart of little Ellen More; yes, heart of 
the great ocean of the multitudinous waves, what our Pilot 
does is well, in all the providential mysteries of the world. 

Those were hard, dark days; if we have sprinkled a little 
fiction for the sake of illustration in our vision of the past, 
the narrative is substantially true. Those were days of 
child heroes on the sea, and their little hearts, like the souls 
of the Pilgrim mothers, shared the common suffering. But 


KIDNAPED INDIANS.— “OUR PILOT.’ 


123 


the harvest of all good endeavor and good work is sure, and 
they who seek their happiness in spiritual things, and live 
for the welfare of all men and all time, will not in the end be 
disappointed. This little colony, for whom waited not so 
much as a roof, a fireplace, or any comfort in the cold, was 
to give expression to ideas which would furnish the model 
of a great republic that should dominate mankind. So 
right ideas grow and triumph in the world. 


CHAPTEK XY. 


THE MAN WHO GAVE UP ALL. THE GOLDEN CHAIN. 

The third expedition of discovery, this one under Pilot 
Coppin, sailed away from the Mayflower on December 6th. 
Those who remained on board eagerly awaited the return of 
the explorers. 

It was Sunday on the Mayflower, December 10 (20th). 

The tide had gone out of the harbor, leaving the channels 
lying like open rivers, and had come back again, over those 
dark meadows of the sea. The fourteen men who had gone 
out under our pilot ” in search of a place of good anchor- 
age, a land of springs of fresh water and of broad timber, 
had not come back again. They were on Clarke’s Island 
then, as the place is called to-day, and was named so then 
for the flrst time. 

The people were gathering, many of them helpless and 
weak, in the cabin to receive words of comfort from Elder 
William Brewster, one of the most beautiful characters to 
be found in the records of mankind. The young people 
gathered there, and they came with willing ears, for they 
had come to regard this great-hearted, loving man as a 
father. 


124 


THE MAN WHO GAVE UP ALL. 


125 


All gathered in a circle. There were two dogs on board, 
and they too came, and Mistress Billington was about to say 
‘^Scat! ” to them, when we may see good Elder Brewster 
passing by and saying: “Let the dumb creatures listen, so 
that they be quiet.” 

The ship rocked to and fro. It was probably the first 
meeting house and pulpit in the empty New England 
world. 

The people sat with folded arms. It was the darkest 
day in all their lives, and they wondered what the glorious 
man of faith, verging on sixty, would say. 

We can not know now what his words were, but their 
meaning may come to us in sympathetic interpretation. 

“ Since we last met two of our number have been laid 
away in the sea and many have sickened, and fourteen have 
gone out from us into the stress of the cloud and storm to 
seek for a place of habitation. He who knows the end from 
the beginning has guided us well. 

“ My hair is turning gray, and I stand before you as your 
servant, having no will but to serve you. I have given up 
all my worldly possessions for this service, as you all know. 
I have sought no worldly gain or honor. I stand before 
you as your elder, conscious of my needs, and only wait- 
ing for that blessed man, John Robinson, to come over 
the sea. 

“ I do not often speak of myself, as you also know, and 
if I so speak to-day it is but to show you that I seek nothing 


126 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


here but to be your servant in faith, and to carry the Gospel 
to those tribes who have never heard the word. 

My manner of life to this day is known to you all. I 
was a student of Cambridge, and I served the court under 
that goodly gentleman, William Davidson, for eleven years. 
I was sent with him by the queen into the Low Countries, 
in Leicester's time, and the keys of Flushing were given to 
me to keep. After such affairs of state I returned to my 
father^s house at Scrooby, and there united with that church 
and society that has crossed the stormy sea. I have been 
imprisoned for the good of this people; I have turned my 
back on honors and public gifts for the sake of this people; 
I have given up my private fortune for you, and, bless God, 
I stand before you to-day, on this rocking ship, with empty 
hands. I am simply your elder, and I would never seek to 
be your pastor, lest you should say of me that I sought for 
myself what belongs only to the elect ministry of God. 

^^But was there ever on earth a company of God like 
this? The sea rocks beneath, the sky lowers above us, and 
the winds whistle around us, but we have Faith. We are 
driven as exiles into a wilderness of savages, but we have 
Faith that the cross of redemption arose even for them. We 
know not whence our food is to come, but we have Faith; 
whence our shelter is to come, but we have Faith. The 
plague of the sea is upon us, but we have Faith. We may 
perish after the view of men, but we have Faith. There 
is a Faith that overcomes the world, and a Faith that is over- 


THE MAN WHO GAVE UP ALL. 


12T 


come by the world, and living is dying; we have the Faith 
that overcomes the world.” 

Little Ellen More was there. She had put on her neck 
the copper chain. 

When the good elder had gone to all the bunks to speak 
out of his good heart of faith to the sick, he touched the little 
girl on the shoulder. 

“ Why do you wear the gift chain, my little one? ” 

^^I^ot for ornament, sir.” 

‘‘I knew that; your little heart could have no vanity 
like that in these dark days.” 

I put it on, sir, because I have Faith.” 

“ That gives my heart help, my little one. Faith in what, 
may I ask? ” 

Faith that I am carrying the chain to the forest king, 
and that that king will wear it in love and protect us all. 
Pilot Coppin thinks God’s gift of love to the great king is 
in this chain.” 

Pilot Coppin is a good man. There are not many like 
him. He practices well what I try to preach. 

Little one, did you know that I once received a gold 
chain to wear? ” he continued. It was a Holland chain.” 

Ho, no, was it? Where is it now? ” asked Ellen 
eagerly. 

It was only given me to wear in honor of the states. 
It belonged to the secretary of the queen, and I gave it back 
to him. Your chain minds me of it.” 


128 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


You gave back your gold cbain, and I am to give up 
mine? You wore your cbain that the queen might be 
pleased that you had served her, did you not? ” 

“ Yes, yes, that the queen might see that the Netherlands 
had approved of what I had tried to do.” 

I am wearing my chain for a king.” 

What king? ” 

The Indian king. Pilot Coppin will tell you about 
him.” 

“What faith! You are the Syrophoenecian woman’s 
real little daughter.” 

“ That is a long word. Elder Brewster; who was she? ” 

“Ask Elizabeth Winslow, your foster mother, some 
other time, when you are alone with her. She will tell you 
her story.” 

A disease like the scurvy was threatening the people on 
board, and especially the women and the servants. The one 
desire of all hearts was to reach land, to feel again the steady 
earth under their feet. 

“If we must perish, let us die on the land,” said one 
woman to another. 

“ I am so weary, so weary,” said Kose Standish, “ but I 
will never complain; I hold to the faith of Brewster, who 
counts all gains as losses for the sake of the cause of the 
Cross in the world.” 

“ Oh, that they would come back,” said Elizabeth Wins- 
low, “ and tell us that they had found a place of springs I ” 


THE MAN WHO GAVE UP ALL. 


129 


Elder Brewster heard, and answered: 

“ ‘ All mj springs are in thee.’ ” 

Night came, and the ship rocked and rocked even in 
the haven, in which a thousand ships might find shelter. 
The lamp light swung, the sickness increased. Even the two 
dogs caught the depression of that dreariest of all the dreary 
nights on the Mayflower, and howled. 

Yet to-morrow would be a day that would cause the 
merry bells of the world to ring for these tempest-tossed peo- 
ple, and that for a thousand years. But they could know 
nothing of this, save by faith. 

The statue of Faith rises over Plymouth Harbor, with 
its face toward the serene blue sky. It stands for more than 
any other statue in the Western world, and when the traveler 
sits down beneath it and looks up to it, his eyes fill with 
tears, and he chokes to speak, and he knows the meaning of 
the apostolic words, of whom the world was not worthy.” 
He himself must be destitute of worth whose heart does not 
melt there, and feel the aspiration for a better life. 

Such was the life on the Mayflower during those perilous 
days, of which Pilot Coppin will give an account to those 
who are waiting his return. 

Let us continue the picture. How did the Pilgrims who 
were left on board the Mayflower during the expedition feel 
as they watched for the return of the explorers on the winter 
coast? The leading men of the company were among the 
explorers, except Elder Brewster and John Alden. 


CHAPTEE XYI. 


THE ROCK OF FAITH. 

It was December 12tb (2 2d). 

“ Tbej are coming,” cried the Billington boys, wbo were 
ever on the alert. 

“ Scat ! ” said Mistress Helen Billington to the dogs, 
which seemed to have scented land, and started up at every 
announcement that caused an excitement on board. 

What do you suppose that they have found? ” 

It was a blue day, and the boat of the explorers rose 
clearly in view. 

Elder Brewster looked off on the harbor, and John 
Alden, the cooper, stood beside him. In popular tradition 
John Alden disputes with Mary Chilton the honor of being 
the first to step on Plymouth Eock. John Alden did not go 
out with the explorers at all. At the final landing of the Pil- 
grim company at a later date, he or Mary Chilton, as we 
shall picture, may have been the first to stand upon the rock. 
A long legend gives the honor to Mary Chilton, who mar- 
ried John Winslow, Governor Edward Winslow^s brother, 
whose tomb may be seen from Tremont Street in King’s 
Chapel burying ground, Boston. The famous Com- 


















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Plymouth Rock 


THE ROCK OF FAITH. 


131 


mander Winslow, of tlie Grand Pro romance, was of this 
family. 

The boat came on, the people crowding to the rail of 
the ship to welcome it. John Howland, who had been 
washed overboard during the voyage and marvelously res- 
cued, and who is supposed to have sung amid the storm that 
beat upon the explorers, is seen to turn his hearty face 
toward the ship. 

^^Oh! he! ho! Good harbor!” shouted he. 

Good harbor ! ” echoed the company. 

Springs! ” 

“ Springs ! ” echoed all. 

^‘Timber!” 

Timber ! ” chorused the company. 

The clouds are lifting,” said Elder Brewster. The 
Old World lies behind us — the gates of the Hew World 
are opening. I can see them as in a vision. The hand of 
Love is behind all events.” 

Good cheer! good cheer !” rang out a voice. Whether 
John Howland really sang in the storm or not, Kobert Cop- 
pin did cry out, Good cheer ! ” when he saw Plymouth 
Harbor, and we may well suppose that he cried “ Good 
cheer! ” now. 

He merits the name of Good Cheer Coppin from this 
time. It may be said that Plymouth Harbor was not the 
one of his dreams. But he was certainly the pilot that 
directed the Pilgrims to Plymouth Harbor, though he came 


132 the pilot of THE MAYFLOWER. 

near carrying them north, and who must have thrilled 
the hearts of the men when he first saw the harbor by the 
cry of “ Good cheer! Good cheer! ’’ an exclamation 
worthy to give a name to some Plymouth school or insti- 
tution. 

“ Good cheer! ” answered all to the heart of Pilot Cop- 
pin. Even the dogs barked in the general joy. 

Up the side of the ship climb the explorers. The sails 
go up again; the anchor is lifted. The Mayflower moves 
on again in clearer air toward Plymouth Harbor, and enters 
the deep channels of the wide haven, so beautiful in calm, so 
dreary in storm. Good Cheer Coppin, what story hast thou 
now to tell? 

They stood on the deck again — the men who had found 
the rock and the springs: Robert Coppin, pilot, the leader; 
Governor Carver, William Bradford, Edward Winslow, 
John Tilley and Edward Tilley, two inseparable brothers; 
Richmond Warren and Edward Doty, and John Clarke, the 
mate of the Mayflower, and several sailors. 

The people pressed around them. 

It is no common story that I bring you now,” began 
Pilot Coppin, on his return, as he sat down amid the com- 
pany, as before; “there are few accounts that can surpass 
it, I mind. If you shall found a colony, and it shall grow, 
what will the people of the future say of the song that w^as 
sung when the sky lashed the billows, and darkness filled 
the sea, when the rudder hung loose, and the sails were torn. 


THE ROCK OF FAITH. 


133 


and men lay sick and dying? They will say that Faith has 
not failed in the world. 

Listen again, and I will tell you what we saw. 

From the beginning the wind was cold, and the blasts 
beat upon us. The spray dashed over us and froze on our 
clothes, and we were clad in coats of ice that were heavy 
as iron. 

Edward Tilley fell back as one dead, and his brother 
watched over him. Our gunner was also sick unto death. 

Out into the heavy waters we sailed; we saw a point 
ahead at last where we might come to shore. Indians were 
there and a fire. We spent the night on the shore, and then 
divided into two companies, one to go on by water and 
one by land. We came together again at night and en- 
camped, setting a sentinel. We prayed there in the light of 
the fire, and then we sang a psalm. Oh, to have heard those 
men singing in the woods by the sea in the storm! That 
was a song of Faith. 

“ The fire blazed warm against the black night. Then 
we lay down, and all was still save the dashing of the sea. 

‘^Suddenly at midnight the sentinel cried: 

‘ Arm! arm! ’ 

We rose up. There was a hideous cry in the air. We 
discharged two muskets; then all became still again, and we 
concluded that it was wild beasts or sea monsters that we 
had heard. 

In the morning we knelt upon the ground and prayed 


134 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


for guidance and protection. Then we carried our arms 
down to a place near where the shallop lay and laid them 
down on the ground. 

“A cry rent the air. It was wild and strange and 
hostile. It was like the cry that we had heard at mid- 
night. 

One of the company who had gone into the woods came 
running hack, crying ‘ Indians ! Indians ! ’ 

There was a rattling in the trees. It was a shower 
of arrows. 

“ ^ Collect your arms ! ’ said Standish. He had kept his 
own snaphance [a hand gun fired by a flint and steel]. We 
hurried to recover our arms. 

^^The cry of the Indians was now loud, wild, and fearful. 
It was like this: ^Woath! Woath! Ha! Ha! Woath! ’ 
The trees, as it were, became Indians, and the Indians 
trees. The trees with big trunks seemed to encase Indians. 
We could see plumed heads peer around the bark of such 
trees and disappear. 

^^We discharged our pieces, but we might as well have 
fired into the empty air. 

At last one of the Indians was wounded, and he uttered 
a dismal cry — so woeful that it went to the hearts of the 
rest. He fled, and all followed his example. They proba- 
bly did not understand our death-dealing pieces. 

“ It was a dark morning. We went out from our shelter 
and found eighteen arrows on the ground. Here is one of 


THE ROCK OF FAITH. 


136 


them; it is headed with a hart’s horn. The encounter took 
place at Neuset [Eastham]. 

We started out upon the sea again, hoping for good 
weather, hut it began to snow and rain. The wind rose 
in the afternoon and the seas rolled rough; the stays of the 
rudder broke and two men made a rudder of their oars. 

In this terrible water I yet felt a light within. It was 
Faith. ^ 

^ Good cheer, he of good cheer, all ! ’ I cried. But 
we had but Faith to give us good cheer. Outside of that 
light everything seemed to be going against us. 

There came a fearful blast, and the sea tossed and 
our mast split in pieces. 

^ Good cheer, be of good cheer, all ! ’ I cried again. 
^ I can see the harbor! ’ Then Master Howland sang. Was 
there ever a song like that? * 

gave a wrong command, but that was overruled by 
the hand of an unknown power. We fell upon an island. 

Our mate, Clarke, was the first to leap to the shore. 

^ I seize the land in the name of King J ames ! ’ he 
cried. So we called the place Clarke’s Island. 

We built our fires in the darkness, prayed, and sang 
again. The next day we rested there, for it was the Sab- 
bath. We found a great rock there where we assembled, 
and in the afternoon and sunset of that still day we saw the 


It seems to have been a tradition that this man sang amid the storm. 
10 


136 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


great harbor lying in the distance to which Providence had 
directed my soul. 

We could sing the psalms of Leyden in these perilous 
days. Winslow, Bradford, and Hopkins could pray and 
give counsel, and John Howland sang — the man servant of 
our governor — may his life he long! * 

“Monday morning broke clear; the dark sea rolled 
calmer and the blue sky arched the subsiding waves. 

“ ‘ That is not your harbor,’ said the men to me. 

“ ^ Ho,’ I answered, ^ that is not the harbor that I saw on 
the Scotsman from Glasgow, but it is your harbor, and 
the one to which Providence has directed you.’ 

“We got ready to sail into that harbor, and entered it on 
more quiet water. 

“ ^ There is a great rock yonder,’ said J ohn Howland, 
the singer, ‘ let us land there.’ 

“ The rock stood out in the shallow water like a monu- 
ment. We drifted up to it. John Howland leaped upon 
it in the name of King James of England. We are going 
to lift anchor and go back there, the place to which I 
directed them, though that was not the harbor that I had 
then in my mind. 

“ The harbor is marked on the chart by the name of Hew 
Plymouth, after the beloved Plymouth, where the people 

* Mrs. Hemans has made use of this tradition : 

“ Amid the storm they sung, 

And the stars heard, and the sea.” 



llie canopy under which Plymouth Rock is now preserved, 






THE KOCK OF FAITH. 


137 


were kind to ns in our distress. It is not Thievisk Harbor, 
as I supposed; you will be glad of that. It is a place of 
springs, of living waters, pure and cool. 

“ On tbat strange rock — whence did it come ? — ^you, too, 
may land. It looks as though Heaven set it there as a 
lonely wharf to signal the souls of heroes. Happy is the 
woman who shall first set her foot upon it. If Provi- 
dence is indeed your guide, her name shall live in a glory 
more great than Captain Miles Standish ever won in 
Flanders.” 

So the pilot’s dream of a better harbor had ended well. 
His invisible faith would one day turn into a monument. 

We have no love for those who try to destroy great na- 
tional traditions. Hearly all such legends are found, after 
all, to rest on a firm basis of fact. But the traditions that 
Mary Chilton or John Alden were the first of the Pilgrims 
to step upon Plymouth Kock, as we have shown, can not be 
true. Ho woman accompanied the Pilgrims on the expedi- 
tion led by Pilot Coppin in the open boat, and John Alden, 
as we have related, was not with them. The tradition in 
regard to Mary Chilton is likely to be true in the general 
landing of the Pilgrim company, when the women and chil- 
dren left the ship, but that event did not occur on Fore- 
fathers’ Day. What matters it? In substance the fore- 
father legend is true. 

The Faith of that day no one can ever dispute, and the 
victory was in the Faith, as achievement always is. To the 


138 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


eleventh chapter of Hebrews we may add; By faith Amer- 
ica was discovered by Columbus and in faith the Pilgrim 
Bathers founded the nation.” It is unwritten Scripture, 
but it is as true as that in the famous chapter which has been 
called the Westminster Abbey of Hebrew History. 


CHAPTEK XYII. 


ELDER Brewster’s looking-glass. 

The Mayflower is on tlie sea again. Slie is headed for 
the rock, for the land of the living springs. From one of 
these springs, at the place of the old Bradford house, the 
visitor to Plymouth yet may drink. It is a public foun- 
tain now. 

The young folks talked of what they would do when 
they had landed, and Mistress Brewster sat down beside her 
boys, who bore the curious names of Love and Wrastle, the 
last, we suppose, in reference to the story of Jacob and the 
angel. Mary Allerton joined the company — she who out- 
lived all the Pilgrims, dying in 1699, having lived at Plym- 
outh nearly eighty years. 

What can a boy do in a country like that? ” said Love 
Brewster. 

Build,” said Joseph Kogers. “ It is builders that live. 
What they build is their thoughts and life. If I live I 
will build, and I will begin to build by helping others to 
build.” 

That is a proper and sensible thing for a boy to say,” 

said Mistress Brewster. ‘^Xow, John Billington, I have 

139 


140 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


some fears about you. Wbat will you do? Something 
useful, I hope.” 

become an Indian chief; that would be tbe most 
useful thing anybody can do.’’ 

And I’ll help him,” piped Francis Billington. 

‘^Beshrew the boy!” profanely said Helen Billington, 
or Goody Billington,” his mother. “ Hear him now — 
if he’d a-gone only a little further with his squibs we’d all 
have been drowned. An Indian chief — ^Mistress Brewster, 
the trouble is that my boys’ minds are too active. I think 
that they will make discoveries.” 

I would like to discover Tusquanto, or Tusquantum, 
about whom the pilot told.” 

And why Tusquantum? ” asked Mistress Billington. 

Why, Goody mother, he would be a tongue for us. 
He lived with Sir Ferdinando Gorges for years, and was 
educated by the trader. He would be a tongue for us.” 

‘^We will need a tongue, an Indian tongue,” said Mis- 
tress Brewster. How that was a sensible remark. You 
can be sensible. I do think that the boy who could find Tus- 
•quantum would be very useful to us. How good thoughts 
are the souls of good actions. May be that you may find 
Tusquantum. Who knows?” 

‘^Let us look over the presents again,” said Love 
Brewster. 

‘^Yes, yes, bring out the box of presents that we are 
going to give to the friendly Indians — to those who do us 


ELDER BREWSTER’S LOOKING-GLASS. 


141 


service,” said Mistress Brewster. “ It makes the heart mel- 
low to look over the things that we expect to give away.” 

Love Brewster brought a curious box. Many of the 
people had followed the counsel of Pilot Coppin, who had 
advised the Pilgrims to purchase gifts in Leyden to be 
offered to the Indians, and had brought gifts with them, 
beside the copper chain. 

How, gifts are heart money,” said Mistress Brewster, 
and here is our treasury. Here are knives — I wonder who 
will receive them — and scissors — I hope some of the Indian 
women will receive those. And here are necklaces — ^the In- 
dians are very fond of necklaces, the pilot says.” 

Here is a tin whistle,” said Mistress Billington. 
That’s yours, John. You’d better keep it yourself; you 
may need it when you get lost in the woods, going to be an 
Indian chief.” 

Mary,” said Mistress Brewster to Mary Allerton, let 
us have a little treat now. You are a careful girl. You 
may go to my chest and bring out the looking-glass, and 
we’ll all look into it and see how we look in this strange 
country before we land. Handle it very carefully. John 
Kobinson himself may have looked into that glass. It 
would be a goodly sight if all the faces that have been seen 
in that glass could appear on it again.” 

Elder Brewster’s looking-glass, the supposed looking- 
glass of our narrative, is still to be seen at the old Brewster 
house in Plympton near Plymouth. All of the Pilgrims, 


142 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


and probably John Kobinson, may have seen their faces in 
that glass. What a revelation, indeed, it would be could 
it bring back again all of the faces that had passed before it ! 

The looking-glass was brought out by the careful hands 
of Mary Allerton, perhaps out of the traditional chest, yet 
to be seen, whose hinges turned the leaf of a new destiny in 
the world. 

“ TV'e have looked into it before,” said Mistress Brews- 
ter. ‘‘We will now look into it for the last time together. 
Whatever the Pilgrim men may do in making a colony, 
there will never much be known of the Pilgrim women, P 
think. But whether we live or perish, we have been faith- 
ful and true.” 

She passed the glass from one to another carefully. The 
whole company gathered in a little circle to see how they 
looked before they set foot upon the land. It was like the 
opening of a family album to-day, only the faces vanished 
with the look, and the glass could never bring them back 
again. 

Wliat faces looked into the glass, and wondered what 
would be their destiny in this new world of storms and 
waves! 

Some of the women wept when they saw how their faces 
had grown thin and faded. 

“ I^^ever mind,” said Mary Allerton, “ summer will come, 
and that will bring us everything — so the pilot says! ” 

The faces lightened. 


ELDER BREWSTER’S LOOKING-GLASS. 


143 


Here, Hose Standish, you may see now,” said Mistress 
Brewster, passing the glass. 

Rose Standish had dreamed of finding Virginia, a land 
of fair skies, sunshine, and flowers, and not this land of 
snows. She saw how thin and white she had grown as she 
looked into the glass. But there was Faith in her face. 
Miles Standish, one of the heroes of Flanders, had not sailed 
on any vain purpose for the new land, however rugged the 
shores might be found. 

Miles is a brave man,” she said, and I must be a 
brave woman. Faith is everything, but I have faded some.” 

Hew faces crowded around Mistress Brewster to look 
into the wonderful glass, which to them was like a magic 
mirror. Mistress Catharine Carver was there, and Mistress 
Elizabeth Winslow, both of them soon to die on the white 
shores of the land now lying in view. 

Mistress Martin was there, the wife of the treasurer of 
the company, who also would fall a victim to the hard life 
in the winter woods. 

Susanna White was there, the mother of the first white 
child born in Hew England. 

Mistresses Hopkins, Tilley, Tinker, Ridgedale, Chilton, 
Fuller, and Eaton were there, and these all were to fall be- 
fore the sickness that would come upon the colony. 

Lively Mary Chilton looked into the glass, and Priscilla 
Mullins peeped shyly over her shoulder. 

And now let me and my two rapscallions have a look,” 


144 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


said Mistress Billington, who, like her family, was noted 
for her almost profane manner of speaking. 

^^Scat!’’ she said to her son John; let your mother 
look first. Well, I do look as though I couldn’t help it — I 
do declare! don’t I now? l^ow, John, ’tis your turn; you 
don’t look much like an Indian chief now; you’d better not 
let any Indian chief get hold of you. And don’t you ever 
go to wandering anywhere into the woods; ’tis a very 
uncertain mind that you have. We may have to give 
away some of these knives and curious things to ransom you 
from some savage. The Indians will be more likely to get 
you than you will be to find some ancient arrow maker and 
to become a chief. Scat! ” 

This last exclamation was addressed to John, after the 
pseudo young chief had taken a peep into the magic glass. 

ITow let your brother look — he that is going to help 
you find Tusquantum and to become a chief. They say that 
the great king of the woods here has a brother chief. There 
— scat! ” 

She pushed Francis, of the powder episode, away from 
the glass, and said in a kindly tone, ISTow let the children 
have a look. If we are going to have any future in these 
empty woods — how the wind howls! — it is to be in them. 
Here, children, come and look, and I’ll be a mother to you. 
I have a good heart, now, if I do talk rough.” 

Ellen More looked into the glass. Mistress Billington 
was about to say Scat ! ” but she saw tears in Ellen’s eyes, 


ELDER BREWSTER’S LOOKING-GLASS. 


145 


and slie drew tlie girl to her bosom and said, “ You poor 
little motherless child! ” 

^^l^ever mind, Goody Billington,” said Ellen, never 
mind; the pilot will come back again! ” 

What makes you think so much of him, Ellen? 

Oh, he thinks good things.” 

“ That he does — now, he does. He talks by what he 
does, now — Pilot Coppin don’t boast of being a good man, 
but he is a good man, and I love him, my girl, because he 
loves you. 

“ Scat ! scat ! scat ! ” 

What had happened now? 

The Billington boys were breathing upon the precious 
glass, and drawing their fingers over the mist. 

‘^Always in some mischief! What made you think of 
that? Your heads are loose! There, go! ” 

The rough, kindly woman gave them a push. 

^^Here, Mary,” said Mistress Brewster, ^^you may put 
the looking-glass away again, very carefully, very carefully. 
We may never all look into it again.” 

On, on moved the Mayflower. The sky was black and 
billowy, and the waves seemed lashing each other. The 
white wings of sea birds rose through the cold mist and 
spray. The ship came to anchor. 

In several of the bunks were sick people. It was dark 
by day and darker by night, and there were no sun, moon, 
or stars. 


146 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Yet the founders of a nation were rocking on those wild 
waves. The cabin light burned as it hung and swung, but 
it was the light of Faith in all these hearts that was to be the 
torch of destiny. 

Would they ever find the great forest lord with the sim- 
ple offering of the copper chain? Would they ever meet 
Tusquantum and make him their tongue to the Indian 
tribes? And would the summer that was thought to bring 
them all things ever come, with warmth and healing, flowers 
and birds, and memories that would make them doubly 
grateful for the blooming fields and winged skies? We shall 
see. Faith beckons them on. 

They are in quiet waters now. Pilot Coppin points out 
to the wathful eyes the famous rock. 

Good cheer ! he said. Behind the rock are springs, 
and behind the springs rise the hills where we may build. 
Good cheer! ” 

Good cheer 1 good cheer ! ’’ echoed the voices of the 
women and children. 

A party of men landed to hew timber and to prepare 
for the landing of the Pilgrim company, which was soon 
to follow. 

^^We are going on shore,” said Pilot Coppin to young 
John Billington; ‘^what can I do for you when I get 
there? ” 

Find Tusquantum, and I will find the way to all good 
fortune, sir! ” 


ELDER BREWSTER’S LOOKING-GLASS. 


147 


“ Aye, aye ! you are keen, my boy — it is an Indian to 
speak for us that we will need to find if we are to live in 
peace with the natives. And now, Ellen, my little girl of 
the Mayfiower, what can I do for you? ’’ 

“ Find the great chieftain of all the lands, and tell him 
we have brought for him a copper chain from the lands of 
his brother kings over the sea! ” 

Aye, aye, my girl of the Mayfiower, I will look for 
them both — Tusquantum and Massasoit, or Ousamequin, as 
some call him.’’ 

That will be a great day. Pilot Coppin.” 

Yes, my little one, a great day.” 

And he will sit under the great trees? ” 

The great trees with beards of moss 1 ” 

Smoking a pipe of peace? ” 

“Yes; the forest king, not the trees.” 

“ And will he wear a plume? ” 

“ Aye, aye, he will be all paint and shells and feathers.” 
“And great lords will be around him?” 

“Aye, aye, the lords of the forest, with bows and 
quivers.” 

“ They will not shoot their arms? ” 

“ no; they will stand up straight like images. They 
will not shoot. Their wampum belts will shine in the 
sun.” 

“ What is wampum. Pilot Coppin? ” 

“ Shells— shells of pearl.” 


148 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Will the women be there? ” 

^‘Likely — they have girdles of shells.” 

^^And plumes?” 

Yes, the plumes of the eagle, or the purple jay that 
bobs his head when he spies you, and says ‘ Haw, haw! ’ ” 

Oh, I am so glad. Master Coppin! You will not let 
John go off and be a chief, will you? He’s nothing but a 
boy.” 

It would be a sorry day if John should ever find him- 
self among the Indians. They would take him to make 
sport for them, I fear.” 

“ You will see what I will do when we land,” said John. 

They did. 

How the children of the Mayfiower must have looked 
out upon that desolate shore! How they must have con- 
trasted it with Leyden, and Delft, and Southampton, and old 
Plymouth! Instead of ivied walls and towers and ringing 
bells, a single rock. Instead of gay shops, a promise of a 
few frozen springs. Instead of homes, woods of which to 
build houses. 

^^Each family must build its own house, and all must 
erect a Common House,” said the governor. In this plan 
was begun the Hew England village. 

The company was now prepared to land. Pilot Coppin 
gently bore down to the ship’s boat the light form of little 
Ellen More. 

The pilot helped the women carefully, remembering 



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ELDER BREWSTER’S LOOKING-GLASS. 


149 


Mrs. Bradford, who had been drowned from the Mayflower. 
So the women and children set foot on the rock in the home- 
less land. 

At this landing of a rather uncertain date, we may re- 
peat that Mary Chilton (Winslow) may have been the first 
of the Pilgrims to set foot on Plymouth Rock. She proba- 
bly was, else there would not have been such a tradition 
among the descendants of the Pilgrims. The explorers 
landed on December 11th (21), and the Pilgrim company 
at a little later date, and so it is true that December 21st is 
Forefahers’ Day, now usually celebrated on the 2 2d. 

The Pilgrim company could hardly have landed at any 
one time, for there was serious sickness on board. The 
Mayflower lay off in the harbor that Pilot Coppin had hailed 
with Good cheer ! ” and the shallop and longboat passed 
to and fro between the ship and the land. 

Good Cheer Coppin’s work is not over. The Mayflower 
is to lie here until the birds come back again in the blue 
skies of an early spring. The Pilgrims are yet to face a 
terrible winter on land, but the genial 'New England spring 
is to come in early March, and when Pilot Coppin shall say 
Good cheer! spring has come again! ’’ the colony will have 
begun that long era of glorious life in the current of which 
we find ourselves now, in that grand stream of the ocean of 
human destiny. We must follow these events. 

And now the Pilgrim Fathers are upon the land. They 
pass Christmas Day in felling trees, and the captain of the 


150 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Mayflower entertains them on board in the evening. He 
probably told them tales of the Halloweens or the Christmas 
greens of their old home of the hollies and ivies; or perhaps 
causes John Howland to sing of the mistletoes. AYe know 
not. Captain Jones was a rough, jolly man, and we do not 
like to believe that he betrayed the Pilgrims and brought 
them here by stealth. He was true to them in the winter 
of their sorrows. 

They must build a Common House, a place for public 
worship, a fort, and must bring to the fort their cannon, and 
for all these things the Mayflower must wait. They must 
make some seven houses for the heads of the families; these 
they must fashion of timber cut from the trees, and cover 
with thatch. The trees are there, monarchs of the forests. 
The meadows of thatch are there, glistening with ice foam 
by the sea. Hack, hack, hack, sound the axes. The thatch 
gatherers are at work in the keen gray mornings. The sick 
still wait on board the ship. It is in this way that the new 
nation begins to build. 

But the reaction from the voyage comes, a kind of 
scurvy, a fever of exhaustion, and many sicken and die. 
The serving men die. Rose Standish dies, several of the chil- 
dren die. The hardship of the sea seems to follow them. 

But the work of the building goes on. The sickness in- 
creases. The winter is wild, snowy, and cold. Wolves 
howl in the forest. But February lights up the earth, and 
the bluebirds come out of the woods. The mornings grow 


ELDER BREWSTER’S LOOKING-GLASS. 


151 


red, and tlie angels of spring are in tlie air. Spring came 
early that year in the true sense of the term. March was 
like April. 

The green mat was rolled up in the Common House, and 
the copper chain was still a thing of faith — it was waiting. 

Who can picture the distress of that winter? One after 
another dying in the Common House! 

They must bury the dead at night, lest the Indians 
should know their helpless condition; they must dig the 
graves deep, lest the wolves should uncover them. 

When some were burning with fever, the deep storms 
came, the sea winds driving the bulletlike snow against the 
rude walls of the house made of logs and clay. The wind 
drifted in, drove the smoke down the chimney, and often 
made the company hover together for warmth. 

They went out very still in the night with the bodies 
of the dead. They waited for the moon to rise to bury the 
wasted forms in the rude coffins. The carpenters must have 
spent their nights in the solemn work of preparing boxes 
for the dead. 

Imagine a scene on such a night! The moon rises on 
the white, silent snows, and hangs over the cold, glittering 
harbor. Afar in the dark forests, where the pine boughs 
are covered with ice, wolves — called lions ” — are howling 
for food. The sky is red in the distance with an Indian 
camp fire. 

Out of the Common House come the bearers in the keen 
11 


152 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


air with the body of the dead. They bear the burden on 
their backs to the hill. The gravedigger, with his dark 
lantern, meets them there. They lower the body into 
the deep earth. They hear the wolves howl, hfo words 
are spoken. The grave is filled in the moonlight, is leveled 
and covered with snow. Night after night, with short in- 
tervals, the silent scene is repeated. The moon has not 
often looked down on a spectacle more pitiable. 

The lights of Leyden were three thousands miles away. 
The native inhabitants of the land were dead except a few 
wandering families. Even the wild cat knew not where to 
find its prey, so dead and empty was the land, and so pitiless 
were the cold and storms. 

In that awful January and February what would a his- 
torian have written in his book of prophecy? Ye who sit 
by your warm fires in luxurious rooms may well recall the 
days of old New England, for in those terrible times the 
faith of the Pilgrim Fathers never failed or faltered. There 
was no room in the inn,” but the magi were on the march, 
and the star of destiny hung in the clouds over those eight or 
more rude houses by the sea. 


CHAPTEE XVIII. 


IN THE WOODS. 

The first thing that the Pilgrims did on landing from 
the ship, now moored in Plymouth Harbor, was to build a 
Common House. This was to serve as a shelter for all, for a 
place of public worship. The country was already named 
Hew Plymouth on the old chart, and report has it that it 
was named by Prince Charles. The first house was named 
the Common House. It would serve for a fort, or a place 
of defense, until a stronger fortification could be built. The 
place of the Common House is still marked in Plymouth. 
It is near the rock. 

To this house the sick were to be brought. Here the 
goods of the ship were to be stored for a time. Here for the 
first days of their history on shore the Pilgrims lived as one 
family. Here almost daily the people sickened and some 
died. 

John Billington and his sons, whom we are sorry to re- 
cord from Morton as “ one of the profanest families 
amongst them,” were at once restless and eager to explore. 

Captain’s mate,” said the senior Billington one day, 

let us make a journey into the woods and see what we can 

153 


154 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


find. Let us make a journey of discovery. Everything 
seems very silent here. There must be something to be 
found. I climbed a tree the other day, and thought I saw 
a sea.’’ 

“ May I go, father? ” said young John Billington. 

« Why should you want to go, John? ” 

To find the ancient arrow maker,” said John. 
hTo, not now. There are always ancient ‘ arrow mak- 
ers ’ in your head, and I wonder if such imaginations will 
ever bring you any good.” 

The two men set out, carrying but a single musket. 

^^We may be in danger,” said the mate. “We have 
seen fires in the woods not many miles away ever since we 
landed.” 

“ Yes, and we may not be in danger. The Standish 
party found nothing alarming when they went out to ex- 
plore, and they brought home an eagle. It was a beau- 
tiful bird, and they roasted it and they say that it tasted 
as sweet as the meat of a lamb. I did not get a taste 
of it.” 

“ One bird could not be divided among a hundred 
hungry people,” said the mate. 

The woods hung with withered grapes and glowed with 
bitter red berries. Partridges flew up from the red and yel- 
low seed pods of leafless rose bushes. There were rabbit 
tracks here and there, and green patches of teaberries and 
princes’ pine. 


IN THE WOODS. 


155 


Strawberry leaves carpeted tbe open places, covered with 
frost, blit retaining their summer color. It was Roger 
Williams who said that God might have made a better berry 
than the strawberry, but he did not, and the same Pilgrim 
found strawberries so abundant that a ship could have been 
loaded with them.” 

Suddenly the mate cried Halt! ” 

John Billington stopped. Before them rose some de- 
serted houses made of poles. 

Indians,” said the mate. 

There are none there now — there is no smoke.” 

“ Let us move cautiously,” said the mate. We may 
be struck with arrows.” 

The arrows are not poisonous,” said Billington. 
Those were not that we found in the first encounter.” 

The two men approached the huts with sharp eyes. 
There was no movement within. 

There was water near. It was a sea. It grew as they 
went on. 

In the midst of the sea was an island. It was a beautiful 
spot in the primeval forest. It may be seen to-day as it was 
of old, a few miles out of Plymouth, and it is still called 
Billington’s Sea.” 

If there were Indians there they hid themselves. The 
Indians felt that they had good reason to hide from the 
white adventurers, even when they were superior in num- 
bers, for a number of them had been stolen from Cape Cod, 


156 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


and the two or three who had returned must have told very 
alarming stories of England and Spain, as Pilot Coppin’s 
stories have already revealed. 

They returned to the Common House, where William 
Bradford fell sick, and to which the news was brought that 
Christopher Martin, the treasurer, was dying on board the 
Mayflower. 

^‘Have you brought home nothing, father?’^ asked 
young John Billington. 

^^Hothing — there was nothing to bring. 

“ What did you And, father? ’’ 

“ A sea and an island. I could not bring them back 
with me. They will stay where they are.’^ 

^^They can do us no good. Did you see any Indians 
there?’’ 

“Ho, but we saw the place where they lived. That 
would be a good place for you to go and be chief; a no In- 
dian chief of no Indians. It is a flne country.” 

“Did you find it?” asked Mistress Helen. 

“What, Mistress Helen?” 

“ The discovery that you were to make.” 

“ I found a sea 1 ” 

“ A sea ? What good did it do for you to climb up a 
tree and discover nothing? Clarke found an island and 
Coppin a harbor, and all you have discovered was a sea. 
You did not even bring home an eagle. Scat! scat! Land 
of mercy! what was that? ” 


IN THE WOODS. 157 

A little chipmunk ran out of one of the logs, and darted 
under the blockhouse. 

That was not a mouse or a rat,’^ said she. It was 
striped. He’s gone for good; he was a squirrel like. What 
a good soup he would make,” she added, with sudden good- 
heartedness, for some of the sick people here ! There are 
more and more falling sick, and I pity them. What did we 
ever leave London for? ” 

It would be hard to say, but the family left to the sea a 
name, and that sea came to be associated with a sad history. 


CHAPTEK XIX. 


THE THATCH GATHERERS. HERO, THE MASTIFF OF 

THE MAYFLOWER. ^A NIGHT UNDER A TREE. 

The sickness increased. A hospital was built and a 
storehouse. Lots were assigned to heads of families, and 
houses, made of oak and clay, and roofed with thatch, were 
built for the Pilgrims who had families. 

We have spoken of dogs on the ship. The company 
brought with them two dogs to Plymouth, one of these a 
huge mastiff, which seems to have been called Hero, and 
belonged to John Goodman. The other was a spaniel, and 
is assigned to Peter Browne, who died at Plymouth, 1633. 

As thatch was of great service in roofing houses, the 
cutting of thatch in the abundant sea meadows became 
a very useful employment. The thatch was best cut at low 
tide, was bound in bundles, and left to dry upon the shore. 

Among the thatch gatherers were the same John Good- 
man and Peter Browne. John Goodman may have lost his 
life by thatch gathering, we can not be sure, but he did not 
long survive a most terrible adventure. 

Four men had gone out to cut and bind thatch, and of 

these were J ohn Goodman and Peter Browne, who took the 
158 


THE THATCH GATHERERS. 


159 


mastiff and spaniel with them. E^oon came to them after 
some hours of labor, and John Goodman and Browne being 
friends went away together to eat their meal. They came 
upon a pond of fresh water, and hastening toward it saw 
there a deer. 

Isn’t it beautiful? ” said Goodman. A stag — look 
at its antlers! ” 

The dogs saw the stag and crept around their masters, 
waiting for a signal to give chase to the animal. 

Let the dogs give chase,” said Browne. We’ve 
sickles to dispatch it if they bring it down. Hero, hist 
-go!” 

The great mastiff started, the spaniel following. The 
stag looked up for a moment, lifting its head high in the air, 
then bounded away. 

The dogs and stag were soon lost to view, but the men 
followed the cry of the dogs. The chase became exciting, 
and the two men heeded not whither they were going. On, 
on, went the animals, and on the men, following the cry in 
the empty woods and through thickets, until suddenly the 
dogs became silent. 

What has happened now? ” said Browne, panting. 

The dogs have lost the stag,” said Goodman. 

It was so. In a short time the dogs came back to them 
panting, and crouched down as though ashamed of their 
failure. How the stag escaped the men could not know. 
It may have leaped some stream. 


160 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Where are we? ” said Goodman. 

Which way is east? There is no sun.” 

The dogs must lead us,” said Browne. Here, Hero, 
home! ” 

But the dog, which understood the word and knew what 
to do in its own land, could not obey the direction here. 
It followed the scent of animals, rather than the course 
back again. 

The shadows of the afternoon were falling. The men 
wandered around and around, following the bewildered 
dogs, and night came on, and the woods were black and 
starless. 

We must get to the shelter of some thick trees and 
remain there until morning,” said Goodman. 

But it is bitter cold,” said Browne, and our clothing 
is poor. We shall perish before morning. See, snow is 
falling, only it is too cold to snow hard.” 

The cold increased. It became terrible. 

‘‘We must walk around and around the tree all night 
long,” said Goodman. “We should die were we to go 
to sleep. My feet are like ice. I must keep the blood cir- 
culating. Walk! walk! ” 

“ It is easy to say that, but my feet are numb. Where 
will the people think that we are gone? ” 

“ They will think that we have been captured by the 
Indians, and we shall add to their trouble in the sickness. 
Why did we lose our senses? Walk! walk! ” 


THE THATCH GATHERERS. 


161 


Around and around a clump of high trees they ran. 
But the night grew more and more severe. 

A cry echoed through the forest. 

What was that? asked Browne. 

^^A lion [wolf]. Walk! walk! 

We must climb the trees. Is there no way to make a 
fire ? ” 

N’one — walk! walk! ” 

The mastiff began to answer the wolf with a cry of de- 
fiance and seemed about to break away from them. 

Browne seized the dog, saying: 

I must hold it. We must not let it go away from 
us — we may need it here.” 

Another cry rang through the black forest, and an- 
other. 

“ There are a pack of them near,” said Goodman. 
“ But we mustnT climb the trees till they are upon us, and 
we must set the dogs on them should they come.” 

The dogs howled, barked, and cried savagely. The 
wolves were unused to such sounds and seemed to fear them. 
They barked, but kept at bay. 

The excitement of the situation roused the latent blood 
of the men. They walked violently, and stopped to listen. 
They caught each other in their arms, and struggled with 
each other to keep their blood warm. But with all their 
efforts Browne cried: My feet are frozen; I fear that I 
shall never see the ship again.” 


162 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


Walk! walk! ” still cried Goodman, and the two kept 
on going round and round in the dark circle. 

Morning came at last. Goodman dragged Browne to 
the foot of a hill, and leaving him there went to the top 
and climbed a tree. 

Cheer up!” he cried. ^‘Browne, Browne, up, up, 
come on! ” 

What do you see ? ” called Browne. 

The harbor.” 

What else? I am numb.” 

I see the ship.” 

Come down to me, I can not walk more.” ' 

I see smoke. Fire — fire — where there is smoke there 
is fire. Keep up heart. I am coming down ! ” 

He came down, hut Browne was unable to move farther. 

He clasped him under the arms and dragged him for- 
ward, Hero following and howling. 

Goodman put his life into the struggle. He loved his 
friend and would die rather than leave him. 

Home ! ” said the half-frozen man to Hero. 

The dog could follow human tracks now and obeyed. 

The people heard the dog call and ran out of the Com- 
mon House. They took the poor thatch gatherer in their 
arms and bore him home. 

‘‘We thought that the Indians had carried you away,” 
said distracted Helen Billington. 

“ Scat ! ” she cried out to the faithful dog. “ Take the 


THE THATCH GATHERERS. 


163 


cripple to Dr. Fuller in the new house. The governor is 
there! ” 

They carried him to the new house. Governor Carver 
received him there and laid him down before the fire. 

Dr. Fuller tried to take off the poor man’s shoes. They 
were frozen to his feet. 

Shall I live, doctor? ” faltered Browne. 

Yes, yes, you will live.” 

But Goodman, will he live? ” 

He is not frozen,” said the doctor. 

Ho, no,” said Goodman. My being compelled to 
carry him is what saved me.” 

He turned white. 

Goodman, Goodman, this is not the end. I may 
live, but it will be through your life. I do not care 
for myself, but I do care for you — I love you as my own 
life.” 

I have no children. You have. I’m all right, all 
right.” 

The doctor grasped his hand and felt of his pulse. 

You are coming round again,” said he. 

Browne did come round again. He recovered from his 
affliction slowly, but was for a long time lame. 

But Goodman had received a shock, and for him there 
was small hope of recovery. His strength had gone out 
of him. 

If it must be one of us, it had better be I,” we may 


164 : 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


fancy him to have said, for such seems to have been his 
spirit. 

He hobbled about for a time. One day his spaniel was 
attacked by two wolves and ran for protection between its 
master’s legs. Goodman secured a stake and threw it at the 
wolves, which, we are told, sat down and grinned at him.” 

The poor spaniel was not used to such company as this. 

Goodman seems never to have been well after that dark 
night in the woods. One night he died. 

They had heard a cry of Indians about Hew Plymouth 
the night before. They must not know that men were 
dying; they must not know that there were graves on' 
the hill. 

So they went out at night and broke the frozen sod, and 
they carried the body to the hill and laid it into the earth. 
They covered it with the clods of earth, and covered the 
clods of earth with snow, and the next snowstorm covered all. 

The hill lay white in the morning, and the spaniel 
howled for its good master at night, but John Goodman 
would never share his meal with the beautiful animal again. 


CHAPTEK XX. 


INDIANS. 

To J ohn Billington and his wife Helen was assigned the 
charge of the Common House. Their sons, John and Fran- 
cis, were not the most trustworthy hoys to live in such a place, 
but John seems to have desired to see Indians, and if the 
latter were to appear anywhere in town it would be there. 

Robert Coppin came over from the ship from time to 
time to talk with the young people, and the old, as well, in 
the Common House. 

Indians were lurking around. Great columns of smoke 
rose here and there in the distance like pillars of the sky. 
The heavens were red at night with camp fires, or forest fires 
where camps had been. One day two Indians appeared on 
a hill beckoning. 

John Billington, the boy, saw them and came running 
home screaming, setting his nervous mother in a tremor. 
Miles Standish and John Hopkins went out to meet the 
Indians, and the latter disappeared. 

And you never asked them to make you their chief, 
said Pilot Coppin to John in a bantering way. What did 
they look like? ” 


165 


166 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


I didn^t look long,” said the boy. One of them said 
^ Hoach,’ and that word did sound awful. When you find 
Tusquantum I will ask him what it means.” 

^ Ah he ’ means yes in Indian,” said Coppin, and 
‘ keen ’ is art thou. ^ Pinese ’ or ‘ pnise ’ means one who 
talks with the dead.” 

If I had said to one of them ^ Keen pnise? ’ he would 
have said ^ Ah he ’ ? ” 

“He might have so answered; perhaps he was not a 
prophet.” 

“ He didn’t look like a prophet — the one that waved his 
hand around so, and so, and so,” said John. 

Helen Billington looked upon the boy with staring eyes. 

“ He will keep venturing,” said she, “ farther and far- 
ther, and some day he’ll meet an Indian that will whirl him 
around so, and so, and so / ” 

Ellen More sat in terror before the Common House fire 
as she listened to this startling prophecy. 

“ They are mounting the cannon,” said she. “ They 
say the minion weighs twelve thousand pounds, and the sacre 
fifteen hundred pounds, and they have made Miles Standish 
captain. I hope the captain will never fire those guns upon 
the Indians. I wish that he would send for the great chief 
to come here. The chief could lay down his arms on the 
other side of the brook, couldn’t he? ” 

“ Yes, yes, my simple-hearted little girl, that he could.” 

“ Then we could give him the copper chain and the 


Indians:* ' 167 

jewel, and make a feast for him, and ask him to come again 
and bring his wife and children/’ 

His wife and children! His squaw,” said Mistress Bil- 
lington, and his papooses.” 

What is a squaw? That don’t sound well.” 

The squaw-sachem, she means,” said Pilot Coppin. 

The queen.” 

That sounds well. What was that other word. Mis- 
tress Billington? ” 

His papooses, you poor little simpleton.” 

What’s papooses. Mistress Billington ? ” 

His little naked brats,” said the woman, who is sup- 
posed not to have been overnice in descriptive words. 

He wouldn’t do that, would he? ” 

Why, child, the chief is a great big, black, half -naked 
savage; a giant, painted like a painted image, such as you 
used to see in the museum of Leyden. And he grins — just 
like that ! ” Helen Billington made a dreadful grimace. 

O Mistress Billington! I’m sorry for him if he acts 
like that. How I think the copper chain would look real 
pretty on him. It would make. him lift up his eyebrows 
so, and look pleasant.” 

He will make ye lift up your eyebrows so, and look 
pleasant if he were to get his hand into your hair. He 
tomahawks ’em! ” 

O Mistress Billington! that sounds sad. What is 
that? ” 


12 


168 


THE P[LOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Robert Coppin put up his hand. 

The little girl need not be told about such things until 
she gets older. Let her keep her illusions of the great forest 
chief sitting under the oaks wearing the copper chain.’’ 

“ She might as well fancy a bear with a crown on his 
head eating out of a silver tureen with a gold spoon. But 
let the girl dream her dreams. She looks peaked. I hope 
that she is not going in the way that her little brother went.” 

“ I think that I will live to see the chief sitting under the 
trees, with the birds all singing around him, and see him 
lift up his eyebrows so, real friendly and pleasant like. 
Elder Brewster says that everything is possible to faith.” 

“ That’s right, my own little girl. Let us have faith. 
I have faith; one thing what we came here for was that our 
faith might be free.” 

Ellen More lived in the new house of Edward Winslow, 
the traveler, and Mistress Winslow’s goodness of heart is 
seen in making a home for this little orphan girl. 

There were a few pleasant days, sky blue days, in that 
short and terrible winter. On such days Pilot Coppin 
would come over from the Mayflower when there was noth- 
ing for him to do, and help the Pilgrims in their building. 
He could use the jackscrew in the mounting of guns. 

It has saved us once,” we may fancy him to say, and 
it shall now be used to protect the company it saved.” 

“ Ay, ay,” said the ship’s carpenter, that was a lucky 
thought that brought the jackscrew on board and saved the 


INDIANS. 


169 


main beams. Success is the product of tools; the more 
things we provide for ourselves to help us the more we ad- 
vance. ^Tis the things that lift that help life.’’ 

Yes,” said Pilot Coppin, and it is those people who 
lift and not lean that make good colonists. We can not 
know how much that jackscrew has done for the world, or 
rather the thought that caused the jackscrew to lift the main 
beam, and that won the battle of the ship against the seas.” 

On one of the sky blue days Pilot Coppin said to Mis- 
tress Winslow: “ The voyage has told upon you. You need 
sunshine. Let us go out on the beach and gather shells. 
We will take, if you like, Ellen with us.” 

O Pilot Coppin ! you have the good cheer for us all 
that was in your heart when you saw the harbor. I am not 
well; the sunny air may give me new life; let us go.” 

They went down to the shore, the pilot leading Ellen by 
the hand. 

It was low tide. The sea seemed almost to have left 
the harbor, except in the deep channels which looked like 
rivers. Great blackfish lay about, looking like rocks. The 
door of the harbor was covered with shells. In the far sea 
whales were spouting. 

There was kelp everywhere, and at places there were 
piles of shells that the Indians had thrown away in their 
transient settlements. 

Ellen picked up a very curious shell on the beach, among 
the dead starfish. 


170 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


What a queer shell that is, Pilot Coppin ! I never saw 
one so beautiful.^’ 

That is a pettjwinkle,’’ said the pilot, picking another 
mollusk of the same kind out of some kelp in which it had 
become entangled. Some call it the periwinkle. Is yours 
dead? ” 

“ I do not know — ^how can I tell? ” 

Put it up to your ear and listen.’^ 

Pilot Coppin handed his shell to Mistress Winslow. 

The good woman and Ellen both put the shells to their 
ears. 

‘‘‘ What do you hear? ” asked Pilot Coppin. 

I hear, I hear the sea; I hear, I hear England, and the 
murmur of winds and bees amid the hedge rows; I hear, I 
hear the voices of my soul! ” 

Mistress Winslow held the shell to her ear as she 
spoke. 

What do you hear, Ellen? ” 

I hear, I hear the far away — the far, far away. What 
makes it do so? ” 

The echo of the ocean is in it,’’ said Pilot Coppin. 

The dead shell sings forever of the ocean.” 

It makes one feel that life is an ocean,” said Mistress 
Winslow; “ that the soul is on an ocean of which we know 
not the beginning nor the end. I am going to take my shell 
back home. I will listen to it when I am lonely. How 
that sound does make me feel — so lonely, so little, and yet 


INDIANS. 


171 


SO full of hope ! It gives me faith where everything is vast ; 
all must be well.’’ 

Ellen found a larger periwinkle, and took both of the 
shells home with her. 

“ Will they sing of the sea by the fire? ” asked Ellen. 

“ Yes, they will sing of the sea by the fire or anywhere, 
and they will forever sing of the sea. They seem to say that 
this world may be small, but that life is large, and better 
things await us far away! ” 

“ I feel that is true. Pilot Coppin, and whether we live 
or die we are all pilots like you, and may I be like you, a 
pilot of good cheer, whatever may happen. I sometimes 
think that I shall not live long.” 

Ellen More stood dumb at these words, and her lips 
quivered. 

I think of Jasper,” she said, when I listen to the 
shell. What good did my little brother’s life do. Master 
Coppin?” 

“ He made better the hearts of those who cared for him, 
and those who loved him, and who remember him.” 

“ It may be that I will make you happier for loving me. 
Pilot Coppin.” 

That you have already. The ocean has a million 
waves every minute, and it could not do without one of 
them. We all need each other, and the Pilgrims need the 
children; it was the children that caused them to sail in the 
far away world of which the shell sings.” 


172 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Elizabeth Winslow tottered as she entered the new house 
under the thatched roof. 

She put the shell on the rough log shelf over the fire- 
place. 

The people came in and were told of the song in the 
shell. They heard it and wondered. They, too, went out 
and gathered periwinkles and ornamented the rude shelves 
of their cabins with them. The first ornaments of the house 
were probably the periwinkle shells. Such shells have been 
favorite adornments of the Pilgrim homes, and may still be 
found on the beaches and in the old houses. They sing of 
a larger life than any other music, of a larger world for the 
soul and of infinite hope. 

The memory of the periwinkle deserves to be cherished, 
like the arbutus flower, among the things that awaken Pil- 
grim memories. 'No music better interprets the thought of 
these prisoners of hope in their thatched cabins on these 
shores by the stormy winter sea. 


CHAPTEK XXI. 

i 

THE INDIAN Mli>L. A CURIOUS EVENT. 

i 

John Billington, Seu^or, often went out to explore, and 
his sons followed his exai,nple. 

One day they came hVme bearing some corn husks. 
Pilot Coppin was at the Common House when they came 
in, and at once took a lively interest in what they had 
found. 

The land of Goshen ! ” said Mistress Billington, what 
have you brought home now? Husks? Where did you 
find so many? ” 

Hear the mill, mother,” said John Billington. 

What is that? ” 

A rock with a hollow and a great stone pestle, like that 
for a mortar. The Indians have been grinding or pounding 
corn there. They threw away the husks, and I have brought 
home some of them.” 

What will you do with them? ” 

Strip them and make a pillow of them,” said John. 

We could braid them and make mats of them,” said 

Mistress Billington. " They would braid like strips of cloth. 

What kind of a place was it where you found them? ” 

173 


174 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


There were tulip trees there, and withered trilliam, 
and bayberries, and red berries.” 

One might make tallow oui of the bay berry,” then 
said our pilot. The land must be full of things that we 
can learn to use. Even .the walnjits would yield us oil. I 
will go with you, John Billington, some day to see the In- 
dian mill.” 

One day in February Pilot Cbppin and the two Billing- 
ton boys set out for the mill. It was found near a cornfield, 

and great heaps of husks were hear. The ground squirrels 

0 

had taken possession of these, and darted away under cover 
when they saw strangers approaching. The corn was 
ground here by breaking it with a stone pestle and rolling 
over it a huge round stone as it lay in the hollow of the rock. 
The Indian women did the grinding. 

There were gardens here where beans had grown. The 
favorite Indian dish in that country was succotash, made of 
corn and beans boiled with venison. This also became a 
common food among the Pilgrims. 

All was silent in the place except the notes of the pilfer- 
ing blue jays. 

The three sat down on the grinding rock. Suddenly 
one of the great husk heaps stirred, and presently it toppled 
over and a head rose out of it. The apparition seemed to be 
an Indian woman. 

She threw up her arms with a sound like warregah ” ; 
she kept her form out of sight under the husks and writhed 


THE INDIAN MILL.— A CURIOUS EVENT. 175 

about with terror; she probably had never seen a white 
man before. 

She began to scatter the heap about in such a way that 
the flying husks filled the air. Higher and higher they 
flew, then the cloud settled down in a heap again, but there 
was no woman to be seen. 

She has been playing partridge,” said Pilot Coppin. 
‘^Hark!” 

Far away through the green tangle of brier bushes by 
the side of the cornfields, there arose a wild cry of terror. 

Warregah! ” 

“ She is calling to some one,” said Pilot Coppin. 

They carried back husks from the deserted mill, and 
John Billington told the story of the partridge trick in the 
Common House. 

Ah, never did that happen except in your mind, boy; 
there are no Indians about here now, or only wanderers,” said 
Mistress Billington. ‘‘You see them in your mind; some 
folks see ghosts that have guilt on their consciences.” 

But a thatch gatherer soon after saw twelve Indians 
near the town, and hid in the thatch while they passed, and 
Miles Standish lost his tools in the wood about the same 
time. Some one had carried them away, and it could not 
have been any of the colony. How and then, here and 
there, signs of Indians lurking about the settlement were to 
be seen. Were these Indians friendly or hostile?” 

At night the far heavens glowed, as they had done for a 


176 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


long time, from Indian fires. The settlement wore an air 
of mystery at such times, as the moon rose golden, like a 
night sun over the sea. 

There were sweet teaberries or checkerberries, partridge 
berries, and chestnuts in burs, to be found in the woods. 
These made the evening in the Common House cheerful at 
times, especially when the winds blew, the snow flew, and 
lions (wolves) were heard in the deep woods afar. 

John Alden was the youngest of the men. He was a 
cooper. After the death of Rose Standish he became inti- 
mate with Miles Standish, and the two found much in com- 
mon in the principle of supply and want which is a law of 
brotherly friendships. 

One morning when the advent of spring was in the air. 
Mistress Billington chanced to open the door of the Common 
House; as she did so she threw back her hands and cried: 

Scat! ” 

She stepped back, then renewed her courage, and ex- 
claimed : 

What are you standing there for? Go home and put 
on your clothes. Did I ever see the like? Nothing but an 
apron on this cold day. Scat! ” 

The men in the room started up. A giant stood in the 
door. He wore only a girdle and apron for decency; his 
head was plumed, and by his side was a bow and two arrows. 

The men came to the door. John Alden was there and 
Miles Standish. The men had gathered there to consult 


THE INDIAN MILL.-A CURIOUS EVENT. 177 

about an expedition, they having made Miles Standish the 
captain of their forces. 

The Indian’s face lighted with a friendly expression as he 
said: 

Welcome, Englishmen! ” 

The men were filled with wonder, and while they were 
at a loss as to what to say, the lusty visitor exclaimed : 

I am Samoset — a chief.” 

Whence did you come ? ” 

“ From where the wind comes in full moon — from the 
north.” 

How can. you speak English? ” asked John Alden. 

I have lived among the traders on the North [Maine] 
coast! I talk English a little; Tusquantum speaks Eng- 
lish better; he has lived in the Englishman’s country.” 

John Billington, the lad, came leaping to the door. 

“Do you know Tusquantum?” he cried. “Let me 
signal for Pilot Coppin.” 

The news of the arrival of Samoset ran through the 
place. John Alden brought a gay shawl or blanket and 
put it over the Indian’s shoulders that he might appear more 
presentable to the women, and thus quieted the indigna- 
tion of Mistress Billington. 

Edward Winslow came hurrying toward the Common 
House, followed by Elder Brewster. Ellen More came to 
the door and looked in, and seeing the chief or sagamore 
sitting within as in a robe of state, she exclaimed: 


178 the pilot of the MAYFLOWER. 

Jolin Billington, let us go to the hill and signal.” 

I have signaled, Ellen.” 

The men, led by Governor Carver, gave Samoset a warm 
greeting. They set before him hot drinks and meat, and 
built a great fire. 

At noon Pilot Coppin came from the ship, and in the 
afternoon all the men sat down to talk with Samoset. 

He told them tales of the chiefs and sagamores, and pic- 
tured the glory of Massasoit, whose kingdom extended from 
the capes to the bays. 

He once went forth in mighty power,” he said of Mas- 
sasoit, attended by thousands of warriors. When he 
stamped his feet the Harragansetts trembled and the Pequots 
hid. Then the great Death came — the dark spirit that 
swept away the warriors. The braves died in heaps; they 
turned yellow; there were none to bury them. Their bones 
lie white in the empty forests, and the wind whistles among 
them when it bends the trees. Only one is left; he went 
away from the place because he saw the spirits of the dead 
when he wandered alone. The dead warriors came back 
again! ” 

In the midst of his narration Captain Miles Standish 
strode to and fro. 

Samoset,” he said at last, “ they have made me a cap- 
tain here — a sagamore. I am to do justice here for the 
governor. Your people have been lurking in hiding about 
the place. That is not right. Some of them have stolen 


THE INDIAN MILL.— A CURIOUS EVENT. 179 

mj axes and wedges, and have carried them away. That 
is not right. They must bring the tools back again, or I 
shall lay them on the earth with my firearm. Standish has 
to speak so; justice compels him to speak so; Standish has 
spoken.” 

The new captain stamped his foot on the split log floor. 
The master of the Common House rolled the big drum. 

Thunder,” said Samoset. 

“ You must summon your people to bring back the 
tools.” The drum rolled again. Samoset may have 
thought that the master of the Common House was the same 
that rolled the thunder drum ” of the spies. Be that as it 
may, he was cowed and overawed by the big little captain, 
and he evidently determined to recover the lost tools. 

They sheltered him that night at the house of Stephen 
Hopkins, and set a guard over the place. 

Welcome, Englishmen!” the words passed from lip 
to lip. 

Samoset,” said Pilot Coppin, I have told the people 
here of Tusquantum. Do you know Tusquantum? ” 

Samoset knows Tusquantum. He meets him in the 
hunting grounds. Tusquantum is the only Indian left 
alive in Pawtuxet. He has lived in the Englishman’s 
country.” 

Samoset must bring Tusquantum here.” 

Samoset will seek him out and bring him here. The 
ghosts will not follow him now. He is afraid that the Eng- 


180 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


lish will carry him away again in their big canoes. But 
you do right. Your captain puts his foot down so! ” 

Little Ellen More wanted to speak to this forest lord. 

May I? ’’ she asked of Pilot Coppin. 

Yes, yes, speak! ” said the pilot. 

“ I wish I might see Massasoit,’’ said she. 

He is a very big man for a little one to see — ^he is a 
mighty chief.” 

Little Ellen shrunk away, but she still kept the hope that 
she would one day bear to him, mighty as he was, the cop- 
per chain. 

When Samoset went away the Pilgrims presented him 
with a knife, a bracelet, and a ring. 

He returned in a few days bringing other Indians with 
him. 

The party were decently and picturesquely dressed, and 
painted and plumed. 

They left their weapons on the ground before approach- 
ing the place. 

Samoset came in proudly. He carried a bundle in his 
hands. He saluted Miles Standish respectfully, and laid 
down the bundle at his feet. 

He opened the parcel. In it were the missing tools. 

Such an example of honor should have won the hearts 
of the Pilgrims. It should have shown them the possibili- 
ties of the Indian character. Pilot Coppin’s heart responded 
to such a truly noble deed. 


THE INDIAN MILL.— A CURIOUS EVENT. 


181 


It is a good tale that I will have to tell of you, Samoset, 
on the docks of London or Southampton. The people will 
here bear me witness that I have always spoken well of your 
race. I wish I could relate what I have seen to-day to King 
James himself, but that a poor pilot like me will never be 
called to do. But men who carry good reports do good in 
the world. I can do that.’^ 

“ Pilot, you speak of King James. How does King 
James look? Is he as grand to look upon as the gTeat Mas- 
sasoit? ” 

I have never seen the great Massasoit, Samoset. I 
want to see him before I sail away. I wish to carry over the 
sea to the traders good reports of him.” 

He is larger than your captain, pilot. I wish to 
ask you one thing more: Does King James do justice to 
his people, as Massasoit does? Would he have returned 
the lost tools? Those tools were not stolen — they were 
found.” 

Governor Carver, you must answer me here. Does 
King James always do justice in his dealings with men? 
Heaven forbid that I should judge the king. Elder Brew- 
ster, you should reply for me.” 

Elder Brewster must have thought of English prisons 
and persecutions and confiscations as he saw the restored 
tools lying upon the ground. But could he say that the 
pagan king was more honest than his own? 

Ask me not now! Melchizedek paid tribute to Abra- 


182 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


ham. It may be like that now. I wish to see the great 
Massasoit.” 

Samoset lifted his hands. 

He is coming! He is on his way; the great Hassasoit 
is coming! ” 

Ellen More clapped her hands as she heard this an- 
nouncement. She hurried back to Mistress Elizabeth Wins- 
low. 

Massasoit is coming — the great Massasoit is coming ! ” 
she cried. 

“We must lay the green rug for him,” said the lady, 
who had been used to ceremony. 

“ He has sent back the lost tools to the captain,” said 
Ellen. “ The captain spoke hard to Samoset when he asked 
him to find the tools. You do not think that Massasoit is a 
better man than the captain, do you? ” 

“ He is a pagan,” said Mistress Winslow. “ But any 
king who puts honor above self-interest deserves to be enter- 
tained upon a field of cloth of gold. Massasoit shall have 
my green rug when he comes — it is the most beautiful of 
the goods of the colony. I believe him to be every inch a 
king! ” 

Mistress Winslow brought out the rug and spread it out 
on the floor. Ellen laid the copper chain upon it. 

“ Thoughts are things sometimes,” said Mistress Wins- 
low. 

“ I dreamed of it,” said Ellen. “ I shall see it, and the 


THE INDIAN MILL.— A CURIOUS EVENT. 


183 


spring is coming — the bluebirds are here already, and the 
pilot says that they bring the spring on their wings. Oh, 
I am so glad! ” 

She danced about saying, “ Massasoit is coming ! ” Had 
the king been an old friend of hers she could not have been 
more happy. 




13 


CHAPTEE XXn. 


MASSASOIT. THE COPPER CHAIN. 

There is one coining to Xew Plymoutli who is truly 
noble — not noble because he is hoping to gain something, 
or fearing to lose something, not noble because he has 
schemes by which he would bring other men into slavery, 
but noble because it is noble to be noble, and because to 
have a royal nature is a debt that a king owes to his place 
among men. He did right because it was right; we wonder 
if King James himself, who claimed to own the country be- 
cause English explorers had discovered it, was really as 
noble as this grand forest king, who spake to the Pilgrim 
Fathers the truth in benevolence, and who kept his word 
for forty years, and that after the descendants of the Pil- 
grims had broken the sacred promises of the Fathers. 

It was Thursday, March 22, 1621, a fair, warm day.” 

In the flood of light under the blue sky the forest birds 
were singing. The pink arbutus, full of odor, was breaking 
through the melting snows; the forest streams were running 
down the slopes, where the maples were turning red. 

Plumes rose above the line of what is now called Wat- 
son’s Hill, a height overlooking the town. 

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MASSASOIT.— THE COPPER CHAIN. 


185 


They are coining! ” shouted the young people around 
the Common House. 

The people rushed out of their houses to a point where 
they could see the advancing plumes. 

Massasoit was indeed coming with his brother Prince 
Quadequina, who always attended him. This brotherly 
affection of Massasoit, who was also called Ousamequin, 
for his brother was one of the characteristics of the king 
which it is pleasing to recall and record. 

The king and the prince had with them sixty warriors, 
men of great stature. They were plumed and painted, 
and armed with bows made of the springing woods of the 
forest. 

They stopped on the brow of the hill and looked down 
on the Pilgrim settlement and upon the harbor where the 
Mayflower lay. 

Pirst to the Pilgrims came Samoset again. He had 
brought with him another Indian, who had not the air of a 
dweller in the forest. 

“ I am Tusquantum,” said the latter, addressing Gov- 
ernor Carver. I have seen the land of the white kiug, 
and have lived in his country. Tusquantum is a friend of 
the Englishman. I am come to say that Massasoit is com- 
ing to visit you. He is now here.’’ 

There was in the company one who we may fancy 
hoped to find in Tusquantum a teacher; it was John Billing- 
ton. It is said that John Billington, Senior, had been a 


186 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


poacher in England; be that as it may, he had an adven- 
turous spirit, and his sons inherited the same. 

The tongue of the English has come,’^ said Pilot Cop- 
pin, who had made known the value of such a man as Tus- 
quantum, or Squanto, as he came to be called by the Eng- 
lish. 

So came Squanto before the royal train appeared. 

The royal Indians now beckoned from the hill. It was 
not thought wise to send Governor Carver to the king, 
though an act of confidence would have been most worthy. 

The Indian king, some of whose subjects had been 
treacherously stolen and carried away to be sold as slaves, 
could not be certain that he would not be betrayed by the 
new settlers. So he would not come down the hill until he 
had first made an understanding with the Pilgrims. 

I will go to the king,” said Edward Winslow. Mis- 
tress Winslow unrolled again the green mat, and Ellen 
More brought out the copper chain for the ceremony of 
the welcoming of the chief. 

^‘Here are a pair of knives as a present to the king,” 
said Carver. 

And here are the copper chain and jewel,” said Ellen 

More. 

The little girl felt that she had somehow fulfilled a mis- 
sion in the world. 

Edward Winslow advanced to the hill beneath which 
ran a brook. He wore an armor and carried a sword. In 


MASSASOIT.— THE COPPER CHAIN. 187 

his pockets were presents, and on his arm was the copper 
chain. 

The scene is so pleasantly described in Morton’s, or 
Mourt’s, ^Narration, that we give it here. Here is Mourt’s 
record of it: 

Thursday, the 22d of March [1621], was a very warm 

day. 

About noon, we met again about our public business; 
but we had scarce been an hour together, but Samoset came 
again; and Squanto, the only [surviving] native of Patuxet, 
where we now inhabit (who was one of the twenty captives 
that, by Hunt, were carried away; and had been in Eng- 
land, and dwelt in Comhill [London] with Master John 
Slaney, a Merchant; and could speak a little English), with 
three others; and they brought with them some few skins 
to truck; and some red herrings newly taken and dried, but 
not salted. 

And [they] signified unto us, that their great Saga- 
more Masasoyt was hard by, with Quadequina his brother, 
and all their men. They could not well express in English 
what they would; but, after an hour, the King came to the 
top of a hill over against us [Watson’s Hill], and had in his 
train sixty men; that we could well behold them, and 
they us. 

We were not willing to send our Governor [John 
Carver] to them; and they [were] unwilling to come to us. 
So Squanto went again unto him, who brought word that 


188 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


we should send one to parley with him; which we did, which 
was Edward Winslow; to know his mind, and to signify 
the mind and will of our Governor, which was to have trad- 
ing and peace with him. 

We send to the King a pair of knives, and a copper 
chain with a jewel to it. To Quadequina, we send likewise a 
knife, and a jewel to hang in his ear. And withal a pot of 
strong water [spirits, brandy?] ; a good quantity of biscuit 
and some butter, which were all willingly accepted.’’ 

Edward Winslow approached the king and the prince on 
the hill. 

I salute you, O king, in the name of your brother over 
the sea. King James of England, France and Ireland. 

My king salutes you with words of love, O Massasoit. 

My king sends through us his messages of peace, O 
Massasoit. 

I am come to be a hostage, O king. I will remain here 
while you shall go down and cross the brook, and meet my 
king’s people there. The governor there awaits you.” 

I would not keep you, O messenger, as an hostage,” 
said Massasoit. There need be no such thing among 
men of honor and faith. Let us go down to the brook and 
meet the messengers of your king, the white brother from 
over the sea! ” 

will remain here with Quadequina,” said Edward 
Winslow; but before you go, I wish to present to you in 
the name of our king, your white brother, and for the gov- 


MASSASOIT.— THE COPPER CHAIN. 


189 


ernor here, and all liis people, and tlie men on yon ship 
lying on the sea, this chain and jewel. It stands, O king, 
for friendship, for love, for peace, for brotherhood. May I 
put it upon your neck? ” 

Massasoit took the copper chain. As he held it up the 
jewel twinkled in the sun, and the light of it made the heart 
of little Ellen More dance on that bright March day. Her 
dream was fulfilled. 

Then Massasoit with a stately tread, wearing the copper 
chain, came slowly down the hill toward the brook. 

Captain Miles Standish with a half dozen musketeers ad- 
vanced to meet him. 

As the king came to the edge of the sunny, rippling 
water, the six musketeers fired their muskets. 

The sound of so many muskets astonished Massasoit. He 
saw that the English had secret power. 

They brought the green rug from the house of Edward 
Winslow, and laid it down for Massasoit. He sat down 
upon it. 

Little Ellen More had gone to Pilot Coppin, and had 
taken him by the hand. 

See, see,” she said, he is wearing the copper chain. 
It will be well with us here. Do you think he looks as 
noble as King James? ” 

Here is the account of the event from Mourt’s Karration 
or Journal: 

“ Captain Standish and Master Allerton met the King at 


190 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER . 


the brook with a half dozen volunteers. They saluted him, 
and he them. So on going over, the one on the one side, and 
the other on the other, conducted him to a house, then build- 
ing, where we placed a green rug and three or four cush- 
ions.” 

As soon as Massassoit was seated on the green rug a 
trumpet sounded, and a drum rolled through the air. 

Governor John Carver with more musketeers was com- 
ing down from the Common House to meet the king. 

The governor bowed low as Massasoit arose and ex- 
tended his hand. Governor Carver took the red hand and 
kissed it. Then the two conferred together, and a banquet 
was prepared for them. 

In that conference they made a treaty of peace. 

It was a treaty that, simple as it is, is worthy of immortal 
record. The primer of the brotherhood of man is in it. 
The heart of the Indian king flowed forth in the goodness 
that seeks the universal good of mankind. 

Read it, analyze it, this treaty of the copper chain, with 
so many lying dead on Burial Hill, with so many hearts 
beating with hope and faith, and the Mayflower lying in the 
harbor: 

1. That neither he, nor any of his, should injure, or 
do hurt, to any of our people. 

2. And if any of his did hurt any of ours, he should 
send the offender [to us] that we might punish him. 

3. That if any of our tools were taken away, when our 


MASSASOIT.— THE COPPER CHAIN. 


191 


people were at work, lie skould cause them to be restored; 
and if ours did any harm to any of his, we should do the like 
to them. 

4. If any did unjustly war against him, we would aid 
him. If any did war against us, he should aid us. 

“ 5. He should send to his neighbor [ing] confeder- 
ates, to certify them of this, that they might not wrong 
us; but might he likewise comprised in the Conditions of 
Peace. 

6. That when their men came to us, they should leave 
their bows and arrows behind them, as we should do our 
pieces, when we came to them. 

“ 7. Lastly, that doing this. King James would esteem 
him as his friend and ally. 

All of which the King seemed to like well; and it was 
applauded of his followers,” says Mourt, and adds : 

All the while he sat by the Governor, he trembled for 

fear.” 

How did Massasoit look? The old recorder says: 

In person, he is a very lusty man, in his best years, [of] 
an able body, grave of countenance, and spare of speech. In 
his attire, [he was] little or nothing diJffering from the rest 
of his followers; only in a great chain of white bone beads 
about his neck; and at it, behind his neck, hangs a little 
bag of tobacco, which he drank [smoked] and gave us to 
drink [smoke].” 

The treaty that was then concluded lasted forty years, 


192 the pilot op the MAYFLOWER. 

and the pledge that accompanied it is one of the most poetic 
events of our history. 

What was the pledge? 

It was made in the gift of the copper chain. 

While you shall wear this chain, the red man and the 
white man shall live in peace,’’ in effect said the Pilgrim 
legislation. 

Massasoit will never cease to wear the chain,” said the 
king, or like words. Whenever he sends the copper chain, 
it shall be the message of peace to the whole race. 

If enemies shall plot against you, he will know it, and 
he will warn you by a messenger with the copper chain. 

If he shall need you to help him against an enemy, he 
will send you a messenger with the copper chain. 

“ Whenever he shall send you the copper chain, it shall 
be a sign of friendship, brotherhood, and peace. Massasoit 
will be true to the gift of the copper chain! ” 

He went away. Governor Carver escorting him down 
to the brook where the two embraced and parted. 

The people now looked for Edward Winslow’s return, 
but instead came Quadequina. 

The prince was young and of noble bearing. He started 
in alarm as the trumpet sounded. 

The muskets rattled again. 

Put them away,” he said; I like them not.” 

The men laid down their muskets, and the prince sat 
down, probably on the green mat of good Mistress Winslow. 


MASSASOIT.— THE COPPER CHAIN. 


193 


Poets have sung of the field of the cloth of gold, and 
painters have vied with each other in bringing back that 
romantic scene. But more to the world than the grand 
display of wealth, jewels, and personal splendor that took 
place when Henry VIII met Francis I on the field of the 
cloth of gold in 1520, just one hundred years before, were 
Mistress Elizabeth Winslow’s green rug, and the matters 
that were concluded on it that March day at New Plym- 
outh, and more in value to the English and French races 
than all the jewels of Henry and Francis, and of the glitter- 
ing courts of England and France, was that copper chain, 
which proved a talisman to the Pilgrims, and protected the 
nation of the West as it lay in its cradle waiting to rise and 
lead a new world. 

The day should be recalled by the history classes of 
our schools: Thursday, March 22, 1621. The copper chain 
was the wampum belt of New England, and it represents 
that nobility which is common to the better heart of the 
races of men. 

It was the last day, we may suppose, that Mistress Eliza- 
beth Winslow took part in any event of this changeable 
world, if indeed she were there. 

The reaction of the awful voyage upon the sea seems 
never to have left her. The common disease which had 
spared her long was now upon her, just as the birds were 
singing, the arbutus blooming, and she had seen, as we 
may hope, the King of Pokonoket sit down on her green 


194 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


mat, and conclude the treaty of peace that would protect 
her husband and make her household treasure immortal. 

When Edward Winslow returned from being hostage 
he saw that she was failing. He told her all the things that 
happened while he was “ on the other side of the brook.’' 

Ellen More sat beside her as the fever did its work. She 
must have been glad that she came. She had lived to see 
the bow of promise on the cloud. 

Lovely Elizabeth Winslow died on March 24, 1621, 
two days after the treaty of peace. And Ellen More wept 
by the still, white form, and wondered if on the great ship 
of life the Pilot were still on board. 


CHAPTER XXin. 


DEATH OF ELLEN MORE. 

It is beautiful weather now, but the sickness in the 
colony has not ended. 

The coming of Massasoit and the death of Mistress 
Elizabeth Winslow had brightened and darkened the life 
of little Ellen More. Her heart went out to Pilot Coppin 
in her loneliness. She drooped, and one spring day she did 
not come out of Edward Winslow’s house, but sent word 
to the Billingtons in the Common House that she was ill and 
wished to see Pilot Coppin once more. 

John, you go and signal for him,” said Mistress Billing- 
ton ; “ the pilot is proper attached to the child. I wouldn’t 
wonder if she had the same complaint as Mistress Winslow 
had; with frail people it follows a hard voyage, sooner or 
later. Her two little brothers have died of it, but her brother 
Richard seems to be strong. Go, John; I don’t believe that 
you will have to go again.” 

John Billington, the lad, was never slow to do any- 
thing for little Ellen More. He signaled to the ship from 

the hill, and was answered by the Pilot, who knew the sign, 

195 


196 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


and who soon came to the shore in a boat, where he was 
met by J ohn. 

“ Ellen is sick,” said the latter, and wants to see you. 
She is at her home, the Winslow house.” 

It is the last time,” said Pilot Coppin. I have seen 
her growing thin, and a little fever will carry her off. She 
will follow Mistress Winslow — I feel that will be so — I saw 
the disease coming, when she held my hand as Massasoit sat 
on the green mat.” 

The pilot went to the house of Edward AVinslow, and 
there found Ellen waiting most anxiously for him to come. 

“ O pilot, pilot,” said Ellen, I was afraid that you 
would not get here in time. I am going away.” 

Where, where, my Ellen? ” 

Where Jasper went, where Mistress Winslow has 
gone. Do you know what happened when they buried Mis- 
tress Winslow? It was in the daytime. The birds were 
singing, and her grave was surrounded by flowers. Here 
are some of them — no mayflowe'rs of Holland ever smelled 
so sweet as these, and they blossomed amid the snow. I like 
the birds that sing in the storm when the light is breaking 
in the cloud, and I love these little ground flowers that 
blossom amid the snow.” 

She tried to reach some of the mayflowers that stood in 
a bowl on a board, but she fell back on the bed saying: 

“ I am so tired, I feel more and more tired — I shall fall 
asleep soon, and then I will go away after the rest.” 


DEATH OF ELLEN MORE. 197 

Pilot Coppin took her little hand and covered it with 
his two hard hands. 

Pilot, I have something that I want to say before I 
fall to sleep and go away. You have a silver pipe.’’ 

Yes, yes, little one; it was a present to me.” 

The Indians smoke when they make treaties of peace, 
do they not? Massasoit did; they said that Indians always 
do. It is their custom to smoke when they sit down to make 
peace.” 

So I have been told.” 

“ Pilot, I love Massasoit; he has a good spirit; he sees 
God in the sky, and in the forests, and everywhere, and 
he wants to do right. Did you see the look on his face when 
he said that the treaty that he agreed to keep was right? It 
was a look of the Great Spirit.” 

Yes, I never could have believed that the face 
of a savage could have that light; but it did, Ellen, 
it did.” 

Did you see how he trembled when he sat on the mat, 
and how the prince shook when the trumpet was blown? 
Pilot Coppin, I want you to do one thing more for me. Oh, 
you have been so good to me, so good. I can go away now 
that you are here — the Pilot is on board.” 

I^ot the Great Pilot, Ellen.” 

Yes, he is on board, too.” 

" What is it, Ellen? What do you want me to do? ” 

‘^I want that you should give to Massasoit the silver 


198 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


pipe. Let John carry it to him; the people do not like 
John, but he has been good to me.” 

I will let Tusquantum carry it to him, Ellen.” 

Let John go with him.” 

If Mistress Eillington will.” 

“ She is not liked here, but she, too, was always good 
to me. What you say makes me happy. Pilot Coppin. I am 
going to sleep now. You hold my hand while I sleep. You 
will know when I go away.” 

Her eyes closed. She was indeed very, very tired. Ed- 
ward Winslow came into the curtained room and stood 
silent for a time, and then he said: 

My little orphan girl is almost through. Pilot Coppin. 
I am glad that you can be here. You had her heart.” 

Ellen began to breathe lightly, and her heart beat slowly. 

It was a mild spring day, and the birds were singing 
without. 

John Billington, the boy, came to inquire about Ellen. 
He brought some arbutus flowers from the brook where they 
grew profusely. The arbutus was the flower of the Pil- 
grims; it came amid the snow, as the iris to the cloud, and 
it should be always entwined with Pilgrim memories. 

Ellen again and again seemed to have gone away, but 
life fluttered, like a bird’s wing, and lingered. 

She opened her eyes at last as in surprise. 

Pilot Coppin? ” 

^^Yes, Ellen.” 


DEATH OF ELLEN MORE. 


199 


I am going away now. All is well everywhere, Pilot 
Coppin. You are here — and the Great Pilot, he will pilot 
you, too; the Pilot is on board.’’ 

She fell asleep, and went away amid the odors of the 
mayflowers. 

The pilot lifted the curtain of the little sleeping room 
and came out into the common room. John was there, 
and Edward Winslow sat before the fire. 

“ Ellen has gone,” he said. John, go with me and 
let me tell your mother. She has a good heart for such 
times as these. Heaven only knows how I loved that 
child. I am ready to sail now. She wanted that 1 should 
give my silver pipe to Massasoit. That I am going to do, 
and then I will wait to sail. I never shall forget that little 
heart, it is a spirit now — Ellen More, Ellen More! ” 

They buried her in the warm light of the vernal sky 
in the open earth, for there was now no longer any fear of 
Indians or of wolves. 

Pilot Coppin brought the silver pipe from the ship, and 
when the little grave had closed he took it to the Common 
House. 

There remains but one thing more for me to do,” he 
,said to Mistress Billington. I must do it before we sail, 
for the April weather is in the skies, and Master J ones says 
that we must soon away. I am going to carry the silver 
pipe which the traders gave me to Squanto, and send it 
by him to Massasoit, and give it to him in the name of 


200 


THE PILOT OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


James, liis brother king over the sea. I want John to go 
with me — I am doing this for Ellen^s sake.’’ 

And it is loth I would be to hinder either of you from 
obeying the wishes of the dead,” said Mistress Billington. 

The two went away to find Squanto, who had his dwell- 
ing on one of the inland clearings where were fields of 
maize. 

The streams were fiowing free, and yellow cowslips 
lined their banks. The wild geese were coming back and 
the few Indians who came here were preparing to plant 
corn. 

“ It is a beautiful country,” said the pilot, “ and I would 
be glad to remain with you here, but in a few days I shall 
be on the sea again.” 

They found Squanto, and gave into his keeping the 
silver pipe. 

I will take it to Ousamequin [Massasoit],” he said, 
“ and tell him that the pilot of the great ship has sent it to 
him in the name of the English king. Master Coppin, do 
you know what he will do with the silver pipe? ” 

E’o, what, Tusquantum? ” 

^^He will keep it until he finds one of his sagamores 
or warriors who has done some deed nobler than he has 
done, then he will send it to him. That is the rule of the 
great Massasoit — that the noblest shall have the best. He 
is no common chieftain; he has a big heart, and the eye 
of the heart that sees what is right. This is not a treaty 


DEATH OP ELLEN MOKE. 


201 


present like tke copper chain — that he will keep forever, 
and give to those who follow him. But this silver pipe, this 
will be buried in his grave, and laid on his heart there, or 
else, if he find that one of his sagamores has done a deed 
of the soul, he will send it to him, as to one more worthy 
than he to keep the treasure. He loves to reward deeds of 
the soul.” 

Squanto turned to John Billington. 

Son of the men of the Mayfiower, you are yet young; 
you have met noble men in your own land, but none of 
them has more value in his spirit than our king of the 
forests, whose kingdom is Pokonoket, whose town is So- 
wams, and whose royal seat is at the burying ground of 
his race at Mount Hop [Hope]. You may live to learn 
lessons of virtue and honor some day from the Indian king. 
Your own people will do well if they will obey the law 
of justice that is ours. I hope some day, boy, to meet you 
again.” 

He did. 

John Billington,” said the pilot, if ever you should 
hear of the silver pipe again, write to me at my Scottish 
home over the sea.” 

^^That I will be ready to do, Pilot Coppin. I think 
that you have planted a good seed in the silver pipe, though 
I know not how it will happen. It will be many a year 
before we shall forget you. Pilot Coppin, and I will write 
to you if good befall us after you are gone.” 


202 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


“ Or if evil befall you, I will wish to hear all.” He 

added: John, we all have our work to do in life. Ho 

wind stirs the leaves in vain, nor does any keel vainly 
plow a single furrow of the sea. I feel as though it was 
the hand of Providence that made me the pilot of the May- 
flower, and that even the little life of Ellen More was not 
given to the world and the wilderness home for nought! ” 
The pilot looked upon the little settlement, and the ship 
with lifting sails. 

These people are founding a nation,” he said, who 
will make men their rulers, as they elected Governor Carver. 
AYhen they landed here they agreed that each family should 
erect its own house, and all should build a Common House. 
Other people will come here, and the colony will grow, and 
build on in that way. It is the true way to found a nation in 
the will of the people. I can see the nation that is to be in 
the pattern that these exiles have made.” 

The pilot had the true vision. 


CHAPTEK XXIY. 


THE DEPARTURE OF THE MAYFLOWER. 

“The. boat from the Mayflower is coming in again! 
said John Alden to Miles Standish one day in early spring. 
“What brings her back, I wonder? She flies the flag, and 
Captain Jones is on board. Robert Coppin is with him.’^ 

“ It is almost time for her to sail,” said Miles Standish, 
“and Captain Jones has long been weary of us and the 
new land. But he has grown more kindly toward us of 
late. Yes, the captain is on board the boat.” 

The two stood on the high ground of the town, and 
watched the boat as it approached the land. 

It was an early spring day. The sky was warmer and 
bluer than they had ever seen it before. The wild geese 
were honking high in the mild, serene air. The bluebirds 
were on the wing, and the sea glimmered with flocks of 
joyous wings. 

The boat touched the shore, and Captain Jones and 
Robert Coppin came up to the Common House. Standish 
went to meet them. 

“ The weather is fine,” said the captain to Miles Stand- 
ish, “so fine that we must be going now. The men are 

203 


204 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


already trimming the sails, and it will be up anchor soon. 
Standish, do you want to know why I have come ? ’’ 

You have grown mellow of late, Captain Jones. I 
mind me that you have come to offer to take back letters 
and gifts to our people at home.” 

“ Marry, my good friend. That I have, and better than 
that. I have come to offer to carry back any of the com- 
pany who wish to return to England. Standish, I have 
been so much with these people that I pity them. It would 
be better for the weak women and the children to return. 
I have seen such people die until my heart has turned 
sick. Send for the governor and let me talk with him. I 
will go into the Common House and wait.” 

Kichard More, the lad put out ” to the Brewster fam- 
ily, was near. 

Kichard,” said Captain J ones, go and call the elder. 
Tell him that Captain Jones is at the Common House, and 
has a message for him.” 

John Alden, who had been with Miles Standish, went 
away to ask the attendance of Governor Carver at the Com- 
mon House. 

The captain stood in the sunny door of the Common 
House and looked out over Burial Hill. 

“ Half of your people lie there,” he said to Standish, 
without so much as one gravestone. You are going to 
plant that field of the dead, I am told. O Standish, Stand- 
ish, think what those poor people suffered! May I never 


THE DEPARTURE OP THE MAYFLOWER. 


205 


see the like of it again. In God’s name send the orphans 
hack with me. Let Leyden, where they were born, shelter 
them again. Let John Robinson care for them. At least 
let Mary Allerton and Remember Allerton return.” 

Governor Carver came out of his house and was soon 
at the door of the Common House. He was followed by 
Bradford and Elder Brewster. These men with Standish 
and John Alden sat down together in the house. 

“ Governor Bradford, I am getting ready to sail, and to 
leave you alone in the wilderness. I am not so hard a man 
as I was. I have come to respect this colony, to love the 
people and to pity them. I know the secret of Burial Hill. 
Governor, I am willing to take you and your people back 
again.” 

I am touched by your kindness. Captain J ones, but I 
have no wish to return. How is it with you. Elder Brewster? 
I would not prevent any one from returning who wishes 
to go, but while there is any hope of founding a colony 
here, where men may be free, I must remain here. I, too, 
know the secrets of Burial Hill.” 

“ I have no wish to return,” said Elder Brewster. 

While there is any hope that we may found a colony 
where faith may be free, I must remain here. I, too, know 
the secrets of Burial Hill.” 

My place is here,” said Miles Standish, and at the 
word here ” he struck the floor with his magic sword. 

Here I remain,” said John Alden. 


206 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWHR. 


“ And with you all here will I live and die/’ said Wil- 
liam Bradford. 

“ But Captain Jones has shown no ordinary nature in 
this thing/’ said the governor. Miles Standish, sound the 
trumpet, and call all of the people together and let me 
tell them what the captain has said.” 

The trumpet was sounded from the door. In a short 
time nearly fifty of the hundred and two people who sailed 
from Delft for the new land sat down on the log benches, 
wondering what had caused the trumpet to be sounded. 

Speak for me. Elder Brewster,” said the governor. 

The elder arose and bent forward. 

^‘My people, you that are left — ^you, the remnant of 
my people, you that are left of the blessed company of 
John Robinson — hear! 

The Mayfiower is about to sail. Your letters home 
must be finished at once. Captain Jones here will take 
them back, and it is a ready and willing spirit that he 
shows. But hear! The captain is willing to take you back 
to the old world, and to your old home. How many of you 
wish to go? As many as wish to go back to the old world 
again let them rise and stand, that we may dismiss you 
with our blessing.” 

Ho one arose. There was a deep silence. A future 
destiny was in the silence. 

The wilderness may be stormy,” said Stephen Hop- 
kins, “but that old world, that old world is stormier! Ho, 


THE DEPARTURE OF THE MAYFLOWER. 207 

no, whatever may happen to me and mine, let me live and 
die here, where there is hope for mankind.” 

‘‘Edward Winslow,” said Elder Brewster, “what say 
you? ” 

“ I must live in free air,” said the great traveler, “ I and 
mine. We have seen many graves open and close here, 
but I have no wish to return.” 

“ Bemember Allerton, orphan, what say you? ” 

“ I have no wish to leave my mother’s grave, and the 
place of her dearest wishes for the welfare of our com- 
pany.” 

“ Mary Allerton, orphan? ” 

“ I have no desire to go back. I wish to live with those 
who have suffered and survived.” 

“ Priscilla Mullins, you, too, are an orphan, and 
the graves of both of your parents are here. What say 
you?”' 

“ ‘ Where thou livest, I will live ! ’ ” 

“Elizabeth Tilley? Thou, too, art an orphan. Thy 
father and mother sleep with the rest.” 

“ ‘ Where thou diest, I will die ! ’ ” 

“ Mary Chilton? Thou wert among the first of the 
women to land on this rocky shore. Thy father died on 
the Mayfiower, in the harbor, and thy mother perished 
here in the dark days of the storm. What sayest 
thou? ” 

“ It is the answer of Ruth, the Moabitess, that I, too. 


208 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


would return. I, wlio was among tlie first to step upon 
these shores, would be the last to leave. I speak from the 
heart, and mj voice is like the others. Let me live here, 
and die here, and be laid in the earth beside my parents 
who gave their all for this cause! ’’ 

Tears were flowing. 

There was a long silence. They had made their decision. 
It was the first election in America. 

Then Robert Coppin rose up. 

“ You are all unwilling to leave this new free land. I 
must go; I would that I could stay. Send your messages 
home by me, and say of me that I was ever true to you, 
and that I loved you.” 

Pilot Coppin has been true,” said they all. 

He went toward the door. 

“ Let me go once more to the spot where Ellen More 
lies buried.” 

The company talked an hour or more, then Cap- 
tain Jones and Robert Coppin went down to the boat, and 
were rowed out to the Mayflower, bearing letters and mes- 
sages. 

The next morning in the red light of the sun the ship 
spread her sails. The women went up on Burial Hill to 
see her lift her anchor, put out the flag of their old land, 
and move slowly, slowly, into the dim distances of the 
blue air and sea. She bore away one heart that all loved — 
it was that of Robert Coppin, our pilot.” 


THE DEPARTURE OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


209 


The ship was leaving three thousand miles of empty 
ocean behind her, but the wide sea was to, be a defense to 
the Pilgrim colony. The great republic could have been 
planted as well in no other place and in no other way. It 
is faith and obstacles that produce power. 


CHAPTEE XXY. 


LOST. 

Blow the trumpet ! Do something ! Oh, my heart 
is clean gone. Blow! ” 

It was a summer day; the sky was full of birds, the 
forests of leaves, and the whole country bright with berries 
and flowers. 

There was excitement in the Common House. John 
Billington, the lad, liked to wander afar into the forest, 
but he usually returned at night. He had been gone two 
days now, and it was nearing the nightfall of the third 
day. 

Mistress Billington was given to scolding John, but she 
loved him, and now that he did not come back she move4 
about from place to place in nervous agitation. 

Miles Standish,” she said, where do you think 
John, my John, has gone? ” 

“ The Indians may have got him ! ” 

“ Don’t say that. This mortar pestle is harder than 
your head, but not harder than your heart. Don’t you turn 
on me, captain though you are — I’m not a woman to take 
any sarse from you. If the Indians have got him they will 


LOST. 


211 


return him — I would as soon trust him to their mercies as 
to yours. Is Tusquantum here? ’’ 

Yes, Mistress Fliptongue.” 

Then send him to me. My b’ye [boy] , my b’ye, he 
will find my b’ye! Go! go! Mght is coming on. If 
he don’t come back to-night not a wink of sleep will I have. 
I’ll wander, I’ll howl. I’ll cry out to the top of the heavens. 
Go! go! You don’t know a mother’s feelings — you haven’t 
any feelings anyhow. Your heart is a wooden clapper. Go! 
You may command the musketeers, but I rule here in the 
block house. If any Indians have done harm to my b’ye, 
it is because you have hardened them to do it by your show 
of authority.” 

I enforce the law as a lawful subject of King James — 
nothing more.” 

King James owns nothing on this side of the water.” 

Who does? ” 

Kot he, nor you, nor Governor Bradford. The In- 
dians own the land. If they had discovered you, would 
they have owned you? But this is neither here nor there. 
My b’ye, my b’ye! ” 

Miles Standish might under other circumstances have 
threatened the poor woman with arrest as a shrew, but he 
did not stop to argue more now. He saw her baking man- 
chets in a wild way, now running to the manchets at the 
fire, now to the door, now sending for Dr. Fuller, now for 
the trumpeter, and he merely said: 


212 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


The woman is distracted. I will send out a hunting 
party to-morrow if the boy does not come back. The Bil- 
lingtons are always in trouble, but the boy must be found.” 

The summer night came and passed, but the boy did not 
come back. Mistress Billington met Miles Standish at the 
door in the morning. 

I havenT slept a wink to-night. I’m mad. Miles 
Standish, mad. 'Now what are you going to do with me? ” 

Find the boy. I’ve got a party together already, and 
Squanto is going with them. You may go on baking man- 
chets. Mistress Billington; if the boy is with the Indians, 
he is safe, and Squanto will find him.” 

If he is with any of Massasoit’s Indians he is safe,” 
said Mistress Billington. I would trust that king as soon 
as I would King James.” 

The trumpet blew. The party formed by Miles Stand- 
ish were ready to go into the forests along the shore, by the 
way of a boat, which would enable them to explore the 
coast and the woods. 

Mistress Billington shrieked when she heard the 
trumpet, then she became calm, and went on with her cook- 
ing of fish and baking of manchets. She had many mouths 
to provide for and few to help her. 

She went to the door from time to time to listen. Be- 
fore her lay cornfields glimmering in the sun. Squanto 
had showed the settlers how to plant the fields, putting 
alewives into the hills of corn. Squanto had taught the 


LOST. 


213 


colonists many things beside fertilizing the plowed earth 
with alewives — as how to tread eels out of the mud in 
springtime, how to plant beans, and ensnare water fowl. 
He was the man of “ good cheer ’’ in the colony now that 
Pilot Coppin had gone. 

The party with Squanto went to Hauset [Eastham], 
where dwelt Aspinet, who was a friend of Massassoit, and 
probably one of the latter^s sagamores. On their way, 
night coming on, they stopped at Cummaquid. There 
they met one of the most amiable Indians of whom we have 
any record, Yanough. Mourt says of him that he was 
very personable, gentle, courteous and fair conditioned, 
and not like a savage save for his attire.” 

The English inquired if a white boy had been seen at 
Cummaquid. 

“ He is safe,” said the chief of Cummaquid. “ But he 
is not here; he is at Hauset. Best with us, and I will 
guide you to him.” 

The chief made a feast for the hungry strangers, and set 
his people to serving them. He was a young man, and had 
a fine courtesy with his hospitality. The English wondered 
that such a heart could be found in a savage. 

A strange thing happened while the English were being 
entertained here by the amiable sachem. There had been 
lost boys in this country before John Billington went 
astray. 

The strange happening was very dramatic, and it is 


214 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


briefly told by Mourt in bis i^arration. We might make a 
story of it, but we will quote it here from Mourt in its 
original simplicity. The old writer says: 

“ One thing was very grievous unto us at this place. 
There was an old woman, whom we judged to be no less 
than a hundred years old; which came to see us because she 
never saw English [before] ; yet could not behold us, 
without breaking forth into [a] great passion, weeping and 
crying excessively. We demanding the reason of it; they 
told us. She had three sons, who, when Master Hunt was in 
these parts, went aboard his ship to trade with him; and 
he carried them captives into Spain, for Tusquantum at that 
time was carried away also: by which means, she was de- 
prived of the comfort of her children in her old age. 

We told them, We were sorry that any Englishman 
should give them that offense; that Hunt was a bad man, 
and that all the English that heard of it condemned him 
for the same: but for us, we would not offer them any 
such injury; though it would gain us all the skins in the 
country. So we gave her some small trifles, which some- 
what appeased her.” 

It was as hard for this old woman to lose her whole 
family as for nervous Mistress Billington to be parted from 
John. There are episodes in which the simple narrative 
is better than any of the lights of fiction, and this is one. 

These Indians were those that attacked the English 
at the time of the exploration from Provincetown. Can 


LOST. 


215 


it be wondered at that they should have regarded the ex- 
plorers as enemies after having had some of their own 
people stolen by the crew of an English ship like the May- 
flower? 

Strange as it may seem, Squanto had been carried away 
by the same adventurers that had taken the old woman’s 
sons. 

I pity you,” said Squanto to the ancient Indian. “ But 
these white people are not like those. They are your 
friends, and the others are your enemies.” 

The words were kindly, but they did not bring back her 
sons to comfort her in her lonely old age. 

The original narrative of Mourt thus pictures the con- 
tinuance of the journey: 

We took boat to Hauset, lyanough and two of his 
men accompanying us. Ere we came to ITauset, the day 
and tide were almost spent, insomuch as we could not go 
in with our shallop: but the Sachem or Governor Cumma- 
quid went ashore, and his men with him. We also sent 
Tusquantum to tell Aspinet, the Sachem of Hauset, where- 
fore we came.” 

While in this interesting country, where they had first 
landed, they found the owners of the corn that they had 
taken for their necessities in the winter. They arranged 
to pay them for it, and did so to the satisfaction of the 
owners of the ground barns. 

Tusquantum hurried forward to E’auset to Aspinet, and 
15 


216 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


told tlie chieftain his errand. The Indian was pleased to 
receive the messenger from the English, and to learn that 
the latter were on their way to his country. He sent for 
the boy. John Billington came to the royal residence, ac- 
companied by warriors. 

Tusquantum,” he said, you have been true to me. 
I never thought to meet you here. I did not mean to run 
away from Plymouth. I got lost in the woods, and when 
I thought I was travelling toward home, I was going away 
from it. Tusquantum, do you remember that silver pipe, 
and what you said to me then? Let me go back with 
you.” 

“ Boy, the English are coming for you in a boat.” 

Let us make the English happy when they see how we 
have used their lost boy,” said Aspinet. English boy, come 
here. Your friends are coming for you. Let me put on 
your neck a string of my beads, and cover you with our 
own ornaments.” 

They dressed the boy as though he was one of the royal 
family, or as for a harvest dance. 

Then Aspinet summoned his warriors, a hundred in 
number, and mounted the boy on the back of one of 
his men of great stature, and they marched down to the 
sea. 

The boat was in sight, but in shoal water, far from the 
land. 

They carried the boy out to the boat, bedecked like a 



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LOST. 


217 


young chief. The party wondered indeed when they saw 
him safe and so arrayed and attended. 

And happy was Mistress Billington when the boy came 
running to the Common House in his royal apparel. 

“ I never will say ‘ scat ’ again to any Indian. It is 
hard to tell in this world who are our friends or who are 
our enemies. Our life is all full of misunderstandings, and 
sometimes I think that all people mean well, only all are 
alike blind, and we do not follow the teaching of the Ser- 
mon on the Mount as we used to do. I sometimes feel 
just as I should not, and I mean to be a better woman now 
that John has come home. Sit down, John, and tell us all 
about where you have been, and where Squanto found you. 
You used to say that you wanted to become an Indian chief, 
and now you do look like one, indeed. What would Pilot 
Coppin say were he to see you now? ” 

Pilot Coppin? He was on the docks of London or 
Southampton, or perhaps in his old home near Glasgow 
now. 

John told his story. 

So the Indians have returned a lost boy to the white 
race who have robbed them of their own boys,” said good 
Elder Brewster. That is noble.” 

“ You ought to tell Massasoit of that,” said Mistress 
Billington to Squanto. Perhaps you will.” 

I will tell the King of Pokonoket what Aspinet has 
done,” said Squanto. I am going to Sowams, where he 


218 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


lives, and lie shall know it all. He will send Aspinet some 
gift. It was a deed worthy of a chain. Aspinet took off 
his own chain and gave it to the boy.^^ 

“ It may be that Massasoit will send to Aspinet the 
copper chain, said Elder Brewster. 

Ho, he would never do that,” said Squanto. That 
chain is a pledge — a treaty chain — he would never do that! 
He would send him some other present — it may he that 
we shall some time find the heart of Massasoit in this thing. 
This is a deed of the spirit. It is the deeds of the soul that 
please him well.” 

Miles Standish,” said Mistress Billington, would you 
be as magnanimous as that? ” 

How that your boy has returned you will have to com- 
mand your tongue better than of late, Mistress Billing- 
ton, or I will have to ask Governor Bradford to conunand 
you.” 

The land of Goshen! Well, let time tell which of us 
is right; time tells the truth about all things, so I need have 
nothing more to say.” 

The Pilgrims were very thoughtful that night. They 
assembled in the Common House and sang some psalms 
from the old Ainsworth collection, John Howland, who 
sang in the storm, leading the voices. Then they went out. 
The whip-poor-wills were filling the woods with their 
mournful notes. Eirefiies were in the woodland pastures. 
The great moon hung over the harbor and shone on the 


LOST. 


219 


level graves on the hill, and on the brook and the fields of 
corn below. 

The air was full of odor, now that the dew was falling. 
The wild rose and sweetbrier grew everywhere; there were 
laurels and sweet ferns on the rocks, and marsh fiowers on 
the borders of the sea. 

A dark form passed westward in the moonlight. It was 
Tusquantum. 

‘‘ Good night,” he said to the men as he was about to 
cross the brook. It is cooler traveling at night. I am 
going to Pokonoket — it is a friendly message that I will bear 
to Massassoit. Tusquantum will come back again! ” 

The doors of the seven houses opened and closed, and 
all was as silent in Plymouth town as was the moonlit bury- 
ing place on the hill. 


CHAPTEE XXYL 


THE WHITE FOOL KING. 

October was at hand. The red leaves began to hang 
like banners on the trees. The cool wind strewed the by- 
ways with leaves, and there were gatherings of flocks of 
birds in the old Indian cornflelds. The leaves of the corn 
rustled in the Pilgrims’ flelds. The nights with the cop- 
pery moon of the fading year grew long again. 

Mistress Billington began to kindle chimney flres again 
in the Common House, and the people gathered there at 
night and recalled the dark winter of death, and told over 
the stories of the terrible voyage, and recalled Good Cheer 
Coppin and Captain Jones, who, notwithstanding an un- 
proved suspicion that he purposely landed them at Cape 
Cod, was so very good to them in the winter of their suf- 
ferings that they liked to think of him now. 

One night in the middle autumn all the old voyagers 
in Xew Plymouth met at the Common House. Mistress 
Billington made for them nocake and served it with a de- 
licious sauce of berries. 

Suddenly the door opened and Squanto appeared. He 

was indeed the tongue of the English, and he was always 
220 


THE WHITE FOOL KING. 


221 


welcome. He was tlie story-teller now that Pilot Coppin 
had gone. 

“ I’ve wonder to tell,” said he, when only halfway 
across the room. You that have ears give them to me.” 

What is it? ” asked Governor Brewster. Has a ship 
been seen? ” 

‘‘No, no, it relates to John Billington here. Massasoit 
has given the silver pipe to the sannap who rescued the 
boy.” 

“ Why should he do that? ” asked Governor Bradford. 

“ It was no common deed. The English once stole the 
boys of the tribe that rescued him, and you sent your cap- 
tain against Corbitant when you thought he was plotting 
against Massasoit.” 

“ How wonderful,” said Elder Brewster. “ Love brings 
love and hatred hatred, and to forgive is to be forgiven. 
Massasoit is our Melchizedek. We may well pay tribute 
to him. Such a man is without father or mother, without 
beginning of years or end of days.” 

“ Would you have done as well. Miles Standish? ” said 
Brewster reprovingly. “ Be a little careful, a little careful; 
your ways in Flanders were sometimes hard. Does it not 
shame us to find among pagans such a man as Yanough? ” 

Squanto took his place among those who read fortunes 
in the fire, or at least saw pictures there. He was asked to 
tell some tale of this land of Pawtuxet, in which he was the 
only survivor of the plague. 


222 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


“ The sachem of Nauset had a sister once,” he said, and 
then paused: He continued in Indian narrative style: 
“ She wanders; she wails with the winds; she cries when 
the winds bite and the wolf howls. She married the 'White 
King Fool.” 

These words startled the company. 

'Who was the White King Fool? ” asked Edward 
Winslow. 

Priscilla Mullins and Mary Chilton locked arms and 
stood close to Squanto. The young folks gathered closely 
around him. 

Let me poke the fire first,” said Mistress Billing- 
ton, sith the tale will he a still one, then you may 
begin.” 

She poked the fire and the sparks flew. 

The Indians’ memories are long,” he began, “ and 
the Kausets have much to remember; but to hearts that are 
kind the Kauset is kind, and his heart melts for those who 
do him well. 

“ It was moons ago in winter. The Kausets were housed 
in their cabins, and telling smoke talk tales and parching 
and pounding their corn. 

“ A runner came. His breath was spent. 

^ Out, out! ’ he cried. ‘ There’s a great bird lit on the 

sea! ’ 

“ The Kausets ran out of their tents. A monster was 
in full view on the ocean with spread wings. It was a 


THE WHITE FOOL KING. 


223 


ship, but they had never seen a ship like that before. It 
was not like that that carried their boys away. 

“ The monster seemed fighting with the storm. But 
the storm’s wings were bigger than its own; the storm drove 
the monster into the shoals and upon the rocks, and as many 
men as you have fingers came trembling in from the sea. 

The Nausets saw them. They watched them. They 

said: 

“ ‘ The sea has sent them to us for us to punish them 
for stealing our people who never came back again.’ 

“ The men were white. They made themselves shelters, 
and found food in the sea. 

The IN'ausets watched them. 

“ One day they fell upon them with a whoop that 
startled the wind. They captured them all and carried them 
away. 

^‘^ITow,’ said the ITausets, ‘we will be revenged upon 
them for those who stole our people, who never came back.’ 

“ Would they kill them? hTo. Would they make them 
work in their fields? 'No, What would they do with them? 
They would make ‘ fools ’ of them; they would send them 
around as presents to the sagamores to make sport for the 
people, as little foxes make sport, as the tame blue jays make 
sport, as the papooses make sport. 

“ So they sent the white fool men as gifts to the saga- 
mores. 

“The sachem of ITauset’s sister was young and very 


224 the pilot of THE MAYFLOWER. 

handsome. Her eyes were black and sparkled, her cheeks 
were soft and clear. She was the light of the tribe. 

How one of the white fool men was young. He had 
white hair, his eyes were blue, his form was straight. The 
Indians loved to look upon him when he did fool tricks 
for them. 

He came from the land called France. I have seen 
the land. It is very warm and fair. 

“ The princess loved to see this man, whom they called 
France, make sport. Every day she asked her brother the 
king to send for him. 

There were young braves who loved the princess, and 
they wrestled with him, and leaped with him, and per- 
formed many antics with him, that she might admire them. 

But it was not these she began to admire; it was 
France, for a soft heart had this same princess. 

One day there was to be a feast, and the princess asked 
her brother the king to bring out the young man France 
again for sport. 

It was to be a great feast and she said : 

‘‘ ‘ We must have high sport to-day. What shall the 
game be? ^ 

‘ The feathering of the tree,’ said the king. 

“ She shrank back. ‘ Hot that, not that,’ she said. 

‘ Why not? ’ asked the king. * That is the finest sport 
of all.’ 

The feathering of the tree was to bind a noble form 


THE WHITE FOOL KING. 


225 


to a tree, and to shoot arrows at the tree, to show how near 
to the form they might strike the wood and yet not hit the 
man. When the sport was over the tree would be found 
pictured with feathers, and if the braves had shot well, the 
bound man would escape, leaving his picture in the form 
of arrows sticking into the tree. But if a bowstring went 
wrong, when the arrows flew near the breast or the head, 
the captive was wounded or fell dead. 

It was high noon in the forests on the edge of the 
sea. The young man France had been bound against the 
trunk of an old oak, and to the braves who were to show their 
skill places were assigned by the king. 

‘ The bowman who shall shoot his arrow nearest to the 
mark and leave the captive unharmed shall be taken into 
my council, and be honored by me above the others,’ said 
the king. 

There were lovers of the princess among the braves. 
It was understood that the one who sent his arrow nearest 
to the captive and left him unharmed would be favored 
by the king as the winner of the princess. 

“ The shooting began at the foot of the tree. The 
princess stood in her tent, more beautiful, it seemed, than 
ever before. 

The arrows feathered the tree at the feet of the cap- 
tive. Then they ran up the tree one by one, and fell under 
his arms, near his heart. Not an arrow drew a drop of 
blood. 


226 the pilot op the MAYFLOWER. 

Then they feathered the oak above the captive’s 
shoulders, when one arrow struck through his hair. 

When the princess saw this she rushed out to the tree. 
Another arrow grazed the captive’s cheek. 

‘ I will see how near to his eye I can lodge an arrow,’ 
said a young warrior, filled with hope at the appearance of 
the princess. 

The princess rushed upon the raised bow and seized 
the bowman’s hand. 

^ ^^ever! ’ she cried. ‘ I have given my heart to him. 
I will make him my chief — unbind the cords! ’ 

“ They unbound the captive, and she led him away to 
her tent. In a few moons she was married to him, and the 
braves of other tribes came to call him the ‘ Fool King.’ 

A child was born to them, and they lived in happiness 
in their tent, and roamed the woods together. But the 
sickness of the land fell upon him and he died, and the 
child died with him at the time. 

The princess saw them buried in one grave, and 
then her heart broke and her mind gave way. She rushed 
into the forests and wandered away. They thought that she 
went to the rescue of the other white captives, who had been 
made fool men. But she never came back. They saw her 
flying from place to place, but she heeded no one’s call. 
They hear her at times on windy nights when wolves cry 
and winds are out, but her cry is like the winds. 

She used to come back alone to the White King’s 


THE WHITE FOOL KING. 


227 


grave. They sometimes saw her fleeing away in the morn- 
ing, but she never visited her people. Then she was lost 
to every one, and they heard her voice no more. If you 
will go with me I will show you the tree that was feathered 
on the day of the feast. The Indian girPs heart is true, 
and Death is cruel when he slays the one she loves. She 
loves to be a slave to the one to whom she gives her 
heart.” 

The Pilgrims listened to the legend, and pitied the 
princess who cried in the storm. 

Then they talked of their loved ones in England and 
Holland; of John Kobinson, of the people who were wait- 
ing to come. They talked of their own loved ones who 
were sleeping on the hill, of Rose Standish and Ellen More. 

Then John Billington, the lad, said: 

“ I am going to write to our pilot to-morrow, to Good 
Cheer Coppin.” 

That is right, boy,” said Elder Brewster. Send him 
my message of good cheer; may he find other ports for the 
exiles of the world.” 

Say to him good cheer for me,” said Edward Winslow. 
“ I well remember how he rose up in the boat on that awful 
day, and shouted ^ Good cheer! I see a harbor! ’ ” 

So do I,” said Governor Bradford. Tell him, boy. 
Governor Bradford wishes him good cheer.” 

Then one after another said the same words, and John 
Howland led a company of singers in one of Ainsworth^s 


228 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


psalms, as he had sung amid the raging waters when our 
pilot said, I see a harbor! ” 

They wondered what Pilot Coppin would say when he 
read John’s letter, and learned that the silver pipe had come 
back to the cape again. 


CHAPTER XXVIL 

THE COPPER CHAIN AGAIN. 

In the early fall, when the woods glowed with an nn- 
usual brightness and the old oaks began to wear a russet 
hue, Mistress Billington went out to a storehouse that had 
been built during the summer, carrying a pail of hot tallow 
in her hands. It was dipping-candle ” day with her; she 
had saved tallow from the animals for food after the early 
fall huntings, and with this she planned to have some good 
lights for the Common House in the late fall and winter 
to come. 

She was about to enter the storehouse where a kettle had 
been set in the chimney, when she was seen to stop sud- 
denly and to throw up one hand. 

Scat ! scat ! scamper, or I will pour the tallow all over 
you! ’’ 

She turned, and came running toward the Common 
House, spilling the hot tallow as she came. Her eyes pro- 
truded, and her face was flushed. 

Run I ” she cried out to the men in the Common 

229 


230 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


House. “ He stands there by the soap barrel. Kun! 0 my 
eyes, O good pity, did I ever see the like ! ” 

What is it? ’’ asked the men. 

The evil one of the woods,’’ cried the excited woman. 

You never saw his like. He is half Indian and half bear, 
and he has claws around his neck! ” 

The men hurried to the storehouse. They found there 
an Indian who presented a strange appearance indeed. He 
wore an apron of wild-cat skin, around his neck was a 
string of birds’ claws, and half of his face was painted 
black. By his side was a pouch or bag of shells, and over 
his forehead waved a white plume. 

He laughed, which brought out his white teeth promi- 
nently, and they contrasted curiously with his half black 
and half copper face. 

The men beckoned him to follow them. He did so in a 
friendly way to the Common House. 

When Mistress Billington saw him coming into the 
house her terrors were renevred. She turned around and 
around, and seizing the cooling tallow, threatened to make 
a candle of the Indian, but finally set it down before him, 
with her familiar expression, The land of Goshen 1 ” but 
followed it up with one equally scriptural, He’s an Amale- 
kite! ” 

The Indian did not understand her terrors, but simply 
said, Much squaw,” having learned a few English words 
from some one, possibly Squanto. He added, Truck, truck.” 


THE COPPER CHAIN AGAIN. 


231 


He took up the tallow stick and began to eat the cool- 
ing tallow, which caused the good woman to lift up her 
hands in astonishment. 

“ Much goodt! ’’ he said. 

The men tried to talk with him, but he did not compre- 
hend what they would say. He simply said: Ho ears,” 
and called for Squanto, adding, Truck, truck ! ” 

Squanto had gone away to the hunting grounds. 

The men thought that he might be a messenger. 

They asked him whence he came, but received no an- 
swer that they could understand, except Truck, truck! ” 

Then he thought of some English words. 

The little girl,” he asked suddenly; “ little spirit? ” 
He means Ellen More,” said Mistress Billington, 
softening and throwing her apron over her head at the 
thought of the sorrows of the never-to-be-forgotten spring. 
Gone,” said she, pointing upward. 

Gorn ? ” echoed the Indian in a forlorn voice. Little 
girl gorn ? ” 

He sat down on the doorsill, and did not speak a word 
for a long time. 

The men consulted together, as the last rays of the sun 
sprinkled the hills. They pointed him to the woods and 
motioned him away. 

He rose up and shook his head: “ Truck! ” 

Indian go now,” said one of the men pointing to the 
sunset. 


16 


232 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


He again shook his head, but stood like a statue: 
“ Truck! ’’ 

Then one of the men attempted to lead him down to the 
brook. But he refused to go. 

Another ordered him away with decisive gestures. 

He put his hand into his bag of shells, and drew some- 
thing out very carefully. It gleamed. It was the copper 
chain. 

He has been sent by Massasoit,” said Mistress Billing- 
ton. “ Let him come in again.’’ 

They gave him a place by the fire. 

I wish the green mat were here,” said Mistress Billing- 
ton, “ and I would that Mistress Winslow and Ellen were 
here, which they will never be again. The Indian is a mes- 
senger of peace, and his paint is meant for ornament. I 
think the black paint is intended to make whiter his. plume.” 

She called him “ White Plume ” now, and hurried 
about to get a supper for him. She was full of bustle to 
serve him, and was sorry for her first treatment of him. 

The Pilgrims’ hearts melted when they saw the copper 
chain. The old days of the voyage came back to them 
again, with thoughts of the pilot and the little grave on the 
hill. 

In the evening Squanto came back to the Common 
House. He talked for a time with the Indian, when his 
errand was made clear. 

Massasoit desired to send a party of Indians to truch 


THE COPPER CHAIN AGAIN. 


233 


with the Pilgrims — that is, to sell furs. Massasoit would 
like to visit the English again, when the leaves were falling. 

They spread a mat for the white-plumed messenger by 
the fire. 

Then they talked of our pilot ” who had gone over the 
sea, of Ellen More and the copper chain, and they wished 
that the little spirit ’’ could have been there to have seen 
the beginning of the mission of peace of that little present 
that had been brought to the great and generous forest 
king. 

The copper chain went about from place to place on 
messages like this. Wherever any Indian bore it, and held 
it up to glimmer in the sun, there was amity, good will, and 
peace. The Mayfiower brought no treasure that was equal 
in noble infiuence to the copper chain. 


CHAPTEK XXYIII. 


THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. 

It was one that can never be repeated. It may be 
painted from the imagination, and sung in song, and acted 
in tableau, but the race is gone that made that festival a 
thrilling scene. The Pilgrims had produced their first har- 
vest on American soil. They must return thanks to God 
for the bounty of the fields, and for the promise that the 
harvest gave them of harvests yet to come. The Indians 
had protected them after the promise that Massasoit had 
made when he received the copper chain. They must in- 
vite the Indians to their feast; they must send for the good 
Massasoit; the monarch of the forest must come back to 
them bringing the copper chain. 

Says Bradford of the Pilgrims at this time : “ They be- 
gan now to gather in ye small that they had, and to fit up 
their houses and dwellings against winter, being all well 
recovered in health and strength, and had all things in 
good plenty.” 

It was Indian summer, the time of the serenity of the 

woods. The cranberry meadows were turning red, and their 

borders were lined with purple gentians. Wild grapes 
234 


THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. 


235 


hung from the oaks and junipers, under the fluttering leaves, 
which had turned yellow. The birds were gathering in 
flocks, and the ospreys had gone away from their nests of 
sticks of wood piled high on the dead trees. 

Governor Bradford called his men who were most swift 
of foot to his house one day. 

Go to Sowams in the Pokonoket country,” said he, 
^‘and inquire for Massasoit. If he he there, tell him that 
we are now ready to receive him; invite him to come with 
his chief men to partake of the Thanksgiving feast with us. 
If he be not there, find him. He may be at the gathering 
of harvest on the Mt. Hope Lands, or at the fishing grounds 
on one of the rivers.” 

The men departed gladly. They were full of confi- 
dence in the heart of the grand old chieftain; they loved 
him. Every Indian on their way would bid them good 
speed when they told their errand. 

Massasoit was the heart of his people. 

With the Pilgrims all was preparation. 

Hunters were sent out for deer and wild turkeys, for 
partridges, quail, and rabbits, of which the woods were 
full. 

The chimneys of the thatched houses smoked. The 
kitchens were busy. The Brewster house was especially 
a scene of anticipation for the invited guests. Priscilla 
Mullins lived there. 

It was Thursday, in the first days of November. The 


236 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER, 


samp, the probable succotash, the possible nocake,” and 
like dishes were made. The game was prepared for roast- 
ing. Massassoit had sent back word by the messengers 
that he would dine with Governor Bradford on that great 
day. 

It was a still morning — so still that one might hear 
the leaves falling in the crystal air. The witch-hazels 
were blooming; like some lives they blossom in the fall. 
The woods were full of odors. The sun rose over the sea. 
The doors of the seven dwellings and four public houses 
were open, and the smoke of ovens rose from the seven 
chimneys. 

A yell rent the air. The people stood still for a moment, 
then ran out of their houses. 

Massasoit is coming ! ” cried the sentinel. 

Massasoit was indeed coming with the copper chain, 
and he was bringing with him ninety warriors. 

The people gathered by the sides of the path that led 
to the governor's house, and waited to welcome the Indiana 
as they should come marching in. 

The Indians came plumed and painted, in cloaks orna- 
mented with mystic figures, in bows and quivers, and circles 
of glittering wampum. By the side of Massasoit walked, as 
we may suppose, the stately Quadequina, his brother, who 
loved him, and was seldom absent from him. It may be 
that Annawon was there, for he lived to be very old. 
^^Pnieses” were there, the Indian mystics, who thought 


THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. 


237 


that they held communion with the dead. Tusquantum was 
there, the interpreter. 

The Indians, led by Massasoit, wearing the copper chain, 
marched down the hill to the governor’s door, and were 
welcomed there by the governor. 

The welcome was followed by the roll of a drum. 

It was the signal for prayer. 

They entered the meeting house. 

All stood silent, the Indians following the example 
of the worshipers. Then Brewster, with uncovered head, 
returned thanks to God for the harvests of the year, for the 
amity of the Indians, for the promise and hope of the 
future. It was probably the first public prayer that the 
Indians had ever heard. 

The feasts followed the services in the church. 

Ninety warriors were many to feed, but ample prepara- 
tions had doubtless been made. 

The day was mild, and they spread the tables in the 
open air. 

The Indians engaged in leaping and other feats of skill. 
Miles Standish led out his little company of twenty soldiers, 
and caused them to go through the customary drill. 

The Indians yelled with delight as they witnessed the 
manceuvers of the soldiers. The scene was wholly new to 
them. 

The Thanksgiving lasted three days, during which the 
English and Indians entered into a better understanding 


238 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


with each other, so as to part in the brotherhood of love and 
peace. 

The last day of this memorable feast fell on Saturday. 
For this farewell meal the Pilgrim mothers had made their 
most bountiful and delicate dishes. The feast may have 
begun with puddings and nocake, and delicacies made of 
nuts, instead of ending with such things, as that was not 
an uncommon method of old colony times. 

What did they have to eat on that day? Was their pro- 
vision as good as that which could be made to-day? Prob- 
ably, and better. The venison may have had rich stews and 
gravies; the wild turkeys may have been flavored with 
beechnuts; the clam chowder may have had rare relishes; 
the game of many kinds may have found that flavor of the 
home oven that no others can equal. The meal probably 
began or ended with plum porridge. Succotash was the 
great Indian dish, and that may have been provided with 
venison. Wild geese may have been served. 

The Indians contributed to the meal. They brought 
oysters. That was probably the day of the first oyster stew 
ever eaten by white people on the Hew England coast. 

It was the beautiful time of the year. 

The forest, full of the odors of the fall, seemed to stand 
still in these last glorious days of the fading season. 

The Pilgrims remembered the stormy voyage on those 
bright days; the terrible sickness; the burial of their loved 
ones at night under the white stars, or amid the drifting 


THE FIRST THANKSGIVING. 


239 


snows. They remembered the sailing away of the May- 
flower, leaving them there firm in the faith that they were 
fulfilling the will of God. 

We may well remember Elder Brewster’s glorious words 
at this period, as he bid the Pilgrims to be true to their pur- 
pose in the world, whatever might come : 

Blessed will it be for us, blessed for this land, for this 
vast continent! E’ay, from generation to generation will 
the blessing descend. Generations to come will look back 
to this hour and these scenes of agonizing trial, this day of 
small things and say : ^ Here was our beginning as a people. 
These were our fathers. Through their trials we inherit 
our blessings. Their faith is our faith; their hope our hope ; 
their God our God.’ ” 

Such a voice as that in the wilderness is one for which 
this nation should be thankful. We are what we are because 
these heroes of faith were what they were. Ho record on 
earth can surpass the scenes of that Pilgrim year, whose 
faith bowed the skies, touched the heart of the savages, and 
turned the wail of prayer into the Thanksgiving psalm in 
the harvest suns of Hovember. Eaith is immortal power. 

Massasoit went away, bearing the copper chain. 


CHAPTEK XXIX. 


“ GOOD CHEER ! ’’ 

.The pilot of the Argo and of the Argonauts did not 
return from Colchis, where Jason had found the Golden 
Fleece. The fifty heroes of Greece with their fifty oars, 
who overcame the dragon, live on in fame; Orpheus for- 
ever sings in the remembrance of art, and Hercules still 
leads the inspirations of human achievement. But the man 
who piloted all has left small record in these golden dreams 
of fable. 

It was so with our pilot, who said in the storm and the 
stress of the sea, Good cheer ! ” The Mayfiower came 
back again, but so far as we know he never returned. He 
left his word of good cheer ” in the Xew World, but he 
probably found an unmarked grave on some Scottish 
heather, or an unknown resting place in the sea. 

But his words of good cheer did not die on the winds. 

The Faith Monument at Plymouth may not be the most 

artistic work of memorial art in America, but the lover of 

the spirit of history feels there, as he surveys the majestic 

face of stone uplifted to the skies, as he can feel nowhere 

else in the Western world. It is a statue with a soul, and 
240 


“GOOD CHEER 1 


241 


every true American should stand on the Plymouth Pock of 
Faith, and should sit down in the shadow of that colossal 
statue, and think of what Faith did in the sublime events 
that have made our history glorious in the achievements 
of character. On Burial Hill and around it rest the men 
who bowed to the heavens, and sang in the storm, and saw 
the visions of destiny, to whom character was everything. 
They were precisioners indeed, but they held the faith of 
the heroes of Hebrew history; and Westminster Abbey has 
no nobler dust than is gathered here, amid these arbutus- 
blooming hills. It is they who said, as interpreted by the 
poetic eloquence of Daniel Webster: ‘^Advance then, ye 
future generations! ” 

A farewell glance at the humble Scottish pilot, who 
cheered the children of the Mayflower. 

He sits on the docks of London. 

Pilot Coppin,” says a shipmate, there’s a letter for 
you in the shipping office; it comes from over the sea.” 

The pilot hurries away for the letter. He secures it and 
looks at it. 

“ It is from that boy, John Billington,” he says. 

He sits down in the sun, where the Thames rolls by, 
bearing outward and inward the argosies of the waters. 

He reads with wonder the generous epistle, and claps 
his hands on his knees when he has put it away to read 
again. 

It is a short message: 


242 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


Pilot Coppin — ‘Good Cheer ^ We are all happy 
now, and Squanto is with us. Massasoit has given the silver 
pipe to the sannap who rescued me when I was lost in the 
woods. 

“ O Pilot Coppin, how strange it all is ! The Indians 
who had been robbed of their own people did not harm 
me; they rescued me, and they sent me back to my home 
with a chain about my neck. They were happy to do it. 

“ The people all wondered at it, and Massasoit gave the 
silver pipe to the Indian who found me when I was lost. 

“We think of you. Pilot Coppin; we remember the 
jackscrew; we love to tell of the time when you cried 
‘ Good cheer — I see a harbor! ’ Elder Brewster says that 
the harbor will welcome the pilgrims of the world. 

“ The people all tell me to say to you ‘ Good cheer ’ for 
them. So good cheer, good cheer forever. Pilot Coppin, 
and good-by, from your loving friend, 

“ J OHN BiLLINGTON.” 

“Good cheer! good cheer!” repeated the pilot. “It 
cheers me now that I spoke those words out of the faith 
of my heart. Happy are they all who say ‘ good cheer ’ to 
the struggling world! ” 

He goes to St. Paul’s Cathedral, and kneels down there 
on the stone floor among the poor people, and says, “Let 
me thank God for the faith of the Mayflower.” He thinks 
of the words that had been given him in the storm, of little 


“GOOD CHEER! 


243 


Ellen More in her grave on Precisioners’ Hill, and lie rises up 
as the great bell peals, and goes out singing in the sun- 
shine as his old comrade of the sea had sung in the storm. 

Reader, it was Faith that made this nation what it is. 
Make a pilgrimage to Plymouth Rock, and in the faith of 
the American Argonauts face the new problems of life, 
and live for the things that live. There are few records of 
faith more tender and inspiring than the simple story of the 
children of the Mayflower. 


APPENDIX. 


THE PLYMOUTH OF TO-DAY. 

We repeat — every American should stand on Plymouth 
Pock. It is the place to renew the faith of the fathers in 
republican liberty. Plymouth was the immortal camping 
ground of a new march of the world, and she shall live in 
eternal memory, and forever be a place of pilgrimages. 

She has marked the events of her heroic history clearly 
and well. Not only rises the Faith Monument over the 
town, the harbor, the graves, the Billington Sea, but a few 
miles away stands the pillarlike Standish Monument on 
Captain’s Hill, an expression of strength in solitude worthy 
of the hero it commemorates. 

Over the doors of Pilgrim Hall may he seen the allegory 
of the welcome of the Indians to the Pilgrims. In the hall 
are glorious paintings of incidents in Pilgrim history, which 
follow the original traditions. Here one may study the 
Standish sword; may find Elder Brewster’s precious chair 
imprisoned in glass and iron, almost as great a treasure as 
the coronation stone of Westminster Abbey. Here in a side 
room may be seen the bones of the sachem of Nauset; we 
know not of any other remains of an Indian chief to he seen 
in New England. The kettle that was buried with the chief 
is placed in the case with his bones. 

Here we may find the curious mortar and pestle of the 
244 



National Monument to the Forefathers, at Plymouth, Massachusetts, 
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THE PLYMOUTH OF TO-DAY. 


245 


Winslow family, once used by Mistress Elizabeth Winslow, 
who adopted the little orphan Ellen More. 

Go out and stand on the Rock under the granite canopy 
in whose chambers are precious relics; then go to the 
place where Elder Brewster’s house stood, and drink from 
the spring that flowed when that good man was living. Stop 
on your way where the Common House stood. These places 
are all marked, and are near each other. 

Then go to Billington Sea, two miles or more from the 
town through the woods. The so-called sea ” is a lovely 
lagoon with a wooded island. The oak leaves there are 
bright in summer, and the carpet of moss and evergreens 
under them will recall the times of the sagamores. 

And, finally, stand on Burial Hill, and look out on the 
sheltered harbor where the Mayflower lay in the dreary 
winter of the great sickness, whose harvest was graves. 

In Pilgrim Hall is the manuscript of a poem which 
caught the spirit of the great event of the Pilgrims’ history. 
It was written by Felicia Hemans, set to music by her sister. 
Miss Browne (Mrs. Arkwright), and given to Sir Walter 
Scott to place for publication. It is said to have been com- 
posed one evening after tea, when Mrs. Hemans had been 
reading an account of the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, 
in a paper sent to her by a brother in Canada. An auto- 
graph copy of the poem was secured by James T. Fields, 
and given in his will to the Pilgrim Society for Pilgrim 
Hall. 

The picture of the landing of the Pilgrims in this poem 
is far from perfect; the coast is not rock bound,” nor did 
the Pilgrims keep unstained ” their freedom to worship 
God ” ; but few poems ever more truly caught the spirit 


246 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


of an event. It is, and will probably ever be, tbe national 
hymn of Forefathers’ Day. One may well repeat it when 
standing in view of the two monuments and of the solemn 
sea, and at no place more appropriately than at the graves 
of the precisioners and of their early descendants. 


THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

The breaking waves dashed high. 

On a stern and rock-bound coast. 

And the woods against a stormy sky 
Their giant branches tossed. 

And the heavy night hung dark. 

The hills and waters o’er. 

When a band of exiles moored their bark 
On the wild !New England shore. 

!N^ot as the conqueror comes. 

They, the true-hearted, came; 

Not with the roll of stirring drums. 

And the trumpet that sings of fame; 

Not as the flying come. 

In silence and in fear. 

They shook the depths of the desert’s gloom 
With their hymns of lofty cheer. 


THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 


247 


Amidst the storm they sang, 

And the stars heard, and the sea! 

And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 
To the anthem of the free! 

The ocean eagle soared 

From his nest by the white waves’ foam, 

And the rocking pines of the forest roared, 

This was their welcome home! 

There were men with hoary hair 
Amidst that pilgrim band, 

Why had they come to wither there. 

Away from their childhood’s land? 

There was woman’s fearless eye. 

Lit by her deep love’s truth; 

There was manhood’s brow, serenely high, 

And the fiery heart of youth. 

What sought they thus afar? 

Bright jewels of the mine? 

The wealth of seas? the spoils of war? 

They sought a faith’s pure shrine! 

Ay, call it holy ground. 

The soil where first they trod; 

They have left unstained what there they found, 
Freedom to worship God! 


17 


248 


THE PILOT OF THE MAYFLOWER. 


COMPACT DAY. 

The Pilgrim Fathers lived not for their own age alone, 
but for all time. They brought the free school with them 
in their purpose on the Mayflower. The schools of the 
nation celebrate many holidays, and they should add to the 
number Compact Day, ^NTovember 11th, O. S. (22d, IST. S.). 

The principle of popular government was that day regis- 
tered on the lid of William Brewster’s chest, if the chest 
tradition be true, amid the children of the new nation. The 
Pilgrim Mothers, as well as the Pilgrim Fathers, may claim 
a thought of gratitude on that memorial day, and the chil- 
dren of the Mayflower may be recalled as the inspiration 
of these grand and worthy deeds, of which the past fur- 
nishes but few examples, which the future may not exceed. 

The school is the foundation of national character. The 
republic must put its trust in the virtue of the people, and 
education must be the pillar of its strength. 

The compact that was made for order in the Pilgrim 
republic, whose hall of legislation was a rocking ship in a 
desolate harbor, was to protect not only exiles, but the chil- 
dren of exiles, while education should produce men and 
generations of men, who should regard justice as more than 
position, welfare more than wealth, and virtue more than 
any other thing. 

The Pilgrims came to the wilderness to found the school, 
to guard the school, and the school may well esteem it an 
honor and sacred trust to celebrate this purpose on Compact 
Day. On this day it will ever be a worthy thing to relate 
in some form the simple story of the children of the May- 
flower. 


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room and the dinner. . . . The book aims only to be agreeable ; its literary flavor is 
pervasive, its sentiment kept well in hand/’ — New YoNi Evening Post. 

“ When the really perfect book of its class comes to a critic’s hands, all the words 
he has used to describe fairly satisfactory ones are inadequate for his new purpose, and 
he feels inclined, as in this case, to stand aside and let the book speak for itself. In its 
own way, it would be hardly possible for this daintily printed volume to do better.” — 
Art A mateur. 


IN GOLD AND SILVER. With Illustrations by 

■I W. Hamilton Gibson, A. B. Wenzell, and W. C. Greenough. 
i6mo. Cloth, $2.00. Also, limited Edition de luxe, on Japanese 
vellum, $5.00. 

Contents : The Golden Rug of Kermanshdh ; Warders of the Woods; 
A Shadow upon the Pool ; The Silver Fox of Hunt’s Hollow. 

“ After spending a half hour with ‘In Gold and Silver,’ one recalls the old saying, 
‘Precious things come in small parcels.’ ” — Christian Intelligencer. 

“One of the handsomest gift-books of the year.” — Philadelphia Inquirer. 

“ The whole book is eminently interesting, and emphatically deserving of the very 
handsome and artistic setting it has received.” — New York Tribune. 


D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue, New York. 


D. APPLETON & CO.’S PUBLICATIONS. 


T JNCLE REMUS. His Songs and his Sayings. By 
Joel Chandler Harris. With new Preface and Revisions, 
and 1 12 Illustrations by A. B. Frost. Library Edition. i2mo 
Jr. Buckram, gilt top, uncut, $2.00. Also, Edition de luxe of the 
above, limited to 250 copies, each signed by the author, with 
the full-page cuts mounted on India paper. 8vo. White vel- 
lum, gilt top, $10.00. 

“ The old tales of the plantation have never been told as Mr. Harris has told them. 
Each narrative is to the point, and so swift in its action upon the risibilities of the 
reader that one almost loses consciousness of the printed page, and fancies it is the 
voice of the lovable old darky himself tliat steals across the senses and brings mirth 
inextinguishable as it comes; . . . and Mr. Frost’s drawings are so supelatively good, 
so inexpressibly funny, that they promise to make this the standard edition of a stand- 
ard book.” — New York Tribune. 

“ An exquisite volume, full of good illustrations, ' nd if there is anybody in this 
country who doesn't know Mr. Harris, here is an opj ortunity to make his acquaint- 
ance and have many a good laugh.” — New York HeraLd. 

“There is but one ‘Uncle Remus,’ and he will never grow old. ... It was a 
happy thought, that of marrying the work of Harris and Frost.” — New York Mail 
and Express. 

“ Nobody could possibly have done this work better than Mr. Frost, whose appre- 
ciation of negro life fitted him especially to be the inter; reter of ‘ Uncle Remus,’ and 
whose sense of the humor in animal life makes these drawings really illustrations in the 
fullest sense. Mr. Harris’s well-known work has become in a sense a classic, and this 
may be accepted as the standard edition. ” — Philadelphia Times. 

“A book which became a classic almost as soon as it was published. . . . Mr. Frost 
has never done anything better in the way of illustration, il indeed he has done any- 
thing as good.” — Boston Advertiser. 

“ We pity the reader who has not yet made the acquaintance of ‘ Uncle Remus* 
and his charming story. . . . Mr. Harris has made a real addition to literature purely 
and strikingly American, and Mr. Frost has aided in fixing the work indelibly on the 
consciousness of the American reader.” — The Churchman. 

“ The old fancies of the old negro, dear as they may bave been to us these many 
years, seem to gain new life when they appear through the medium of Mr. Frost’s 
imagination.” — New York Home Journal. 

“ In his own peculiar field ‘ Uncle Remus’ has no rival. The book has become a 
classic, but the latest edition is the choice one. It is rarely riven to an author to see 
his work accompanied by pictures so closely in sympathy with his text.” — San Fran- 
cisco A rgonaut. 

“ We say it wfith the utmost faith that there is rot an artist who works in illustra- 
tion that can catch the attitude and exoression, the slyness, the innate depravity, the 
eye of surprise, obstinacy, the hang of the head or the kick of the heels of the mute and 
the brute creation as Mr. Frost has shown to us here.” — Baltimore Sun. 


New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue. 

























